


Evie

by PL600 (succulentrat)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 213,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succulentrat/pseuds/PL600
Summary: Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“Tessa Evangeline Locke, when and where did you find the time to go to the saloon?”  
“Erm...do you want the first time or the last time?”  
“What? How many times have you gone?!”

There was a reason I never told my father where I was going or what I was doing should I find the opportunity to do something other than lay in wait for a suitor. I’d get in trouble, and there I was... In deep, deep trouble. I didn’t know how he found out -- in fact, I was unsure if I wanted to even know how he did. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I was just expecting it to be later. Much later. I knew it was a big deal to him, especially since I had to travel for forty-five minutes to get to the nearest town that had the saloon I frequented. It was the _only_ saloon that was closest to us. We lived only in a small trading town -- no need for a saloon when one could get alcohol for cheap from someone who made it. But someone would say something to my father if they caught me buying booze right in our own town.

It was more unlikely for me to be recognized in that town I went to just for the saloon. Perhaps it was one of my father’s friends or clients who had seen me there. They could have been stopping in for a drink themselves before continuing on wherever it was they were going. For all I knew, it could have been the man who had just left a meeting with my father. My father had so many friends and clients that I couldn’t keep track of all their faces, so if I saw one of them at the saloon it would have flown over my head.

“It’s been a couple of months,” I admitted sheepishly, averting my green eyes to the floor.  
“A couple-- Why? How?”  
“The ‘why’ is... Well, it’s because it gets tiresome waiting for the next suitor or the next dress fitting.”  
“I thought you loved dress fittings.”  
“That’s besides the point, Father. What I love is the needle point. What I _would_ love is some freedom.”  
“But...the young men who come see you...”  
“Why do I need to marry rich when I already have the money?”

Honestly. My father was old money; my great-great-great grandfather got lucky and made quite a bit of money after coming to America from England. From there it just continued to grow, and it was _still_ growing with my father. I wasn’t the first girl to be born in the family, but I was the first girl to not have any brother’s -- at least none that I knew of. My mother ran off with someone else when I was still a little girl. For the longest time, I didn’t understand -- but I eventually could understand why; my father could be rather...overbearing, to say the least. She either didn’t take me because she didn’t really want me or because she thought I’d have a better life with my father.

“Because when I’m gone, you’ll need someone to care for you,” my father replied. “Your mother was like this, too; she would rather be out in the woods playing pretend.”  
“You didn’t answer the ‘money’ bit, Daddy,” I said quietly.  
“Well, would you like to live_ poor_?”

I kept quiet, just waiting for the last bit to come out. He was eventually going to mention it; I knew he was. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get married; it was just at the back of my mind. I barely even had a life outside of needle point, dress fittings, afternoon tea with other ladies in the town... I didn’t even realize there were other towns besides ours until I was ten. My father had gifted me a map for my birthday; amidst my confusion, there was wonder. I could tell he was now regretting gifting me anything that could be paired with adventure. I took after my mother even more, it seemed; right from my auburn hair all the way to the freckles that crawled across my face. It wasn’t like adventure wasn’t in my blood, either; my mother had been a poor travelling girl when she met my father.

“The men are _boring_, Father,” I told him. “I’ve asked all of them if I could accompany them on horse rides and they merely scoffed at the idea.”  
“You need to settle down soon,” he sighed. “You are twenty-four, for heaven’s sake.”  
“I have been a dutiful daughter. I go to church, I put up with the suitors, and the seamstress pricking me; I sit here reading and doing needle point all day. Forgive me for wanting something a bit more exciting in life.”  
“You can help the maids cook and clean. Perhaps that should have been the case since I began searching for you; not all these men will have maids.”  
“These...men...want a wife that will be dutiful. They want me to sit there and do what I do now, with the addition of bearing children. Heaven forbid I wish to ride a horse. Cooking and cleaning is not exciting, either.”

As overbearing as he was, my father was not a bad father. He was just concerned for my safety, which I understood. He was always going to be my parent and I was always going to be his little girl, but surely there was a time when he was going to be able to understand that I wanted more than a life of domesticity. One of the ladies whom I had tea with had gone and somehow convinced her parents to allow her to travel on her own. We hadn’t seen her in months, but according to letters she was in fine health and was making no plans to return in the near future.

“Do you think the outlaw life is exciting, Tessie?” my father asked.  
“Oh.”

That was what I had been waiting for, but upon hearing him actually say it made me feel bad. The way he said it sounded quite wrong and judgmental. Well, that wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to give him an answer right away without allowing him to explain how he even knew what was going on, but just by that one word I had mumbled he had confirmation that I’d been seen with someone...not up to his standards.

“Tessie.”  
“Are you disappointed in me?” I wondered.  
“Well, yes, but I love you so I will listen when you tell me when and why.”  
“Erm...I guess the lady he was courting left him and he found his way to the saloon. It was just coincidentally the same evening I happened to be there. My first night there, too, a few months ago.”  
“I’m assuming that you know this...” He cleared his throat, “older gentleman’s name?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why do you ‘guess’ the lady he was courting left him?”  
“It’s not guessing; she did leave him. I only keep going back so I can see him.”

My father held his hand up; he looked like he was about to have a fit. “Older gentleman” was one way to put it. Dutch was most certainly older and he _could_ act like a gentleman if he wanted to, but from the stories he told it was evident that he wasn’t typically a _gentleman_ or a_ gentle man_. The stories he told weren’t just stories, either; they were real, alright.

“P-Please, tell me you have not...” my father stammered.  
“I have not what?” I murmured.  
“Do I need to take you to church?”

It took me a good, long moment to realize what he was referring to. The guilty expression on my face was all my father needed as an answer. It hadn’t been planned -- at least not by me. One thing led to another and before I knew it we were in one of the rooms above the saloon and didn’t come out until morning, though I managed to sneak back in before church. It wasn’t the most recent meeting, but it also wasn’t one of the older meetings. It was still quite new and I was still trying to wrap my head around what completely happened. I didn’t know in the beginning if it was from the constant travelling back and forth, but I was beginning to take ill. I was beginning to understand what it _could_ be, but I was unsure of myself. My father just didn’t know I was becoming ill just yet.

“Daddy, I...I’d rather not go to church and...” I struggled to speak.  
“We don’t have to tell anyone why you’re there,” he replied.  
“If they ask...”  
“Yes, that is a problem. Sinning to cover up another sin is unforgivable.”

I was going to cry. Surely he wouldn’t force me to church at this point? I would take a hit with a belt rather than have to admit to the priest that I had lay with someone before marriage. In a small town like ours, that kind of news would spread quickly and my father’s reputation would be ruined. We would have to pack up and start anew elsewhere.

“Hit me, if that would make it better,” I sniffled. “But please don’t make me sit there and talk to Father O’Malley.”

I didn’t want to say that Father O’Malley was a cruel person, but he was old and could be rather harsh. If I had to talk to him, he would most certainly convince me that I was to be condemned to hell, possibly try to convince my father to commit me to a convent. I was sneaking off on my own, drinking, and lying about where I was going, and then I had been with someone that my father didn’t approve of -- all of that would have to come out in my confession to Father O’Malley. Doing something to myself was one thing, but bringing disgrace to my family, my father, was a whole other thing.

“I could never hit you, Tessie,” my father said, taken aback. “If you’re that afraid, then...I suppose you can stay here. But we will still need to go to church this Sunday, as usual.”  
I nodded. “I understand.”  
He sighed, looking at his pocket watch. “I have a meeting that will be running late. Do I need to send word that I need to cancel?”  
“You don’t.”  
“Before I leave, when was the last time you were there?”  
“Um...six nights ago, if I remember rightly.”

It was only once a week that I went to the saloon, on the same day. I probably would have gone more often if it wasn’t so risky; and now it was too risky to even step out onto the porch. My father meant well, but I was certain now he was going to have someone keep tabs on me whenever he wasn’t around. I looked out my window, watching my father’s coach disappear around the corner. There was a lot of guilt and disappointment inside of me; not because of the things I did, but because he was upset with me; because I had been found out.

“Miss Tessa?” one of the maids, Beth, asked as she knocked on my door. “Your dinner is ready; roast, just like how you like it.”

The mere mention of roast made my stomach feel sour. I quickly ran to the restroom to be sick, much to the confusion of the maid. The smell of cooked food was wafting upstairs in the direction of the rest room; my being sick didn’t cease for quite a while. I’d been ill in the morning, but had managed to eat breakfast; lunch was skipped since I was feeling ill then; tea went just as it usually did, but now it appeared I was going to have to skip dinner as well.

“Miss Tessa, are you all right?” Beth inquired. “You’ve been awfully sick these last few weeks...”  
“I’ll be okay,” I choked out.  
“Would you like me to send for the doctor?”  
“No! No, don’t do that.”

The last thing I needed was for a doctor to come pay me a visit and then have a meeting with my father when the sun came up the next day. The biggest problem, other than what was inside of me, was to figure out how to speak to Dutch about it. The next biggest problem was how to tell my father about it.

“How about a light soup, then?” Beth asked.  
“No, thank you.”  
♞♞♞

My father had said he would be at a meeting until very late, but he didn’t get home until the sun came up. That was incredibly strange; he would never allow meetings to go that long, no matter how important the client was. Even though he had been out all night, he merely took a bath and went back out to deal with other matters about town. It meant he was going to be out cold when night came back around and I would be able to leave for the saloon as usual. That is, if he didn’t have someone watching the house looking out for me.

“Miss Tessa, your father has sent for you,” Beth mentioned, walking over to my armoire.  
“Did he say why?” I wondered.  
She picked out a dress and motioned to the privacy screen. “Just for a late afternoon walk, ma’am. You’re to meet him at the general store. You have been wearing that dress for a good few days, now. Perhaps we should change you?”

I _did_ bathe, but I had just been putting the same dress back on every time. It laced up in the front rather than the back and so I didn’t need the help to put it on. Now, though, the dress she had chosen I did need help with. I stepped behind the privacy screen to remove the one I was wearing. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it was found out why when Beth tried to lace up the back once the newer dress was on me. Ordinarily, she would have been able to pull it so tightly that it felt like the string might snap. But this time around, the string only felt taut.

“Oh, Miss Tessa, I’m sorry, please don’t think ill of me, but I think you may have put on some weight,” Beth agonized as she finished tying the dress up.  
“I have, haven’t I?”  
“Forgive my questioning, ma’am, but does this have anything to do with your being ill?”

The shoulders were tight, as was the waist. One wrong move and the seam would tear, I was sure of it. I turned to look at her. If I told her, then there was a chance that she would tell my father. She wasn’t a fool, exactly; maybe she could figure it out on her own. Without answering her, I picked up the parasol my father bought for me and left to go join him. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that I had gained some weight; he hadn’t noticed the day before because he was so upset with me. As I rounded the corner to meet with my father, Father O’Malley and I nearly bumped into each other. He was the last person I wanted to see until I could understand what I should do with my situation.

“Good day, Father O’Malley,” I said.  
“Good afternoon, Miss Locke,” he replied, eyeing me closely. “Keeping out of trouble, I hope?”  
“Always.”  
“We will see you and your father at church as usual?”  
“Yes, sir. I can’t keep Daddy waiting.”

I finished my walk to the general store. By the time I arrived, I was feeling ill again. This time I wasn’t sure if it was from the hot sun or from what was inside of me. I couldn’t even fathom saying the word, much less think it. Upon seeing me, my father frowned.

“Are you unwell?” he asked, concerned. “Should we instead return home?”  
“It’s nothing that I can’t handle,” I assured him. “It may just be you who should return. You’ve not slept.”  
“All is well, Tessie.”

We continued on to walk around the town. It wasn’t unusual for us to walk around together; it was just not often we got to do it. Sometimes my father went away on trips to other cities or towns, and he had once travelled to London. He hadn’t done many long trips in recent years, due to the fact he was looking for a man to marry me. The only thing that reminded me that he had ever sailed across to England was the parasol; he had purchased it from a finery shop before coming home. Most things he brought back for me from trips he took were fine jewellery.

“Daddy?” I mumbled.  
“What is it? Is something the matter?”  
“I lied to Father O’Malley.”

He sighed. Did he think perhaps it would have been better to just let the situation be rather than confront me about it? My father must have realized I would not have told him what was going on, at least not on my own. If I kept it to myself, then there may have been a point when someone from my father’s client list found me and dragged me back home to force me to tell the truth. I would rather be confronted and spared that particular shame. It was shameful enough that I had disappointed him.

“Well, just pray at church,” he told me. “Pray best you can and I am sure that the Lord will forgive you.”  
“It’s not the Lord I am afraid of,” I admitted. “Just from this...I can’t be condemned to hell, can I?”  
“In my eyes? No. But I can’t tell you how the Lord sees you, darling.”

We wandered by a house, where the kitchen window was open. Whomever was inside was cooking, and it made my stomach, once again, sour. I covered my mouth and scurried to the nearest bush or ditch I could find to be sick. Hopefully my father would contribute it to the sun and not connect it with what happened. He didn’t seem to suspect anything when I wandered back over to him.

“Tessie, your sleeve,” he despaired.

I looked at the shoulder he was looking at and realized the seam had come apart. Just holding my hair back had been enough to tear it? Just what I had been afraid of. I looked at him, scrunching my eyebrows together. That really was concerning. He grabbed my hand and took me home, immediately ordering Beth to make me a bath and another maid to fix the dress.

“Mister Cornelius, Miss Tessa has been ill for quite a while,” Beth mentioned.  
“Beg pardon?” my father asked, turning to look at me.  
“I’m alright,” I replied, pretending to be confused.  
“Now, Beth, there will be no slander here.”  
It looked like Beth was about to argue, but instead she nodded. “Yes, sir. Come, Miss Tessa. Will you need any help today?”  
“No,” I quickly said.

I left my dress out for the other maid to fix and allowed myself to sit in the bath for a long time. I’d lied to Father O’Malley, I’d lied to my own father, and I had made Beth look horrible. There was no reason to be confused, but I was confused. I wasn’t going to lament and wonder how it happened -- I knew how it happened and I knew why it happened.

“Tessie?” my father asked from the other side of the door.  
“Yes?” I called back.  
“Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been in there an awfully long time.”  
“I’m thinking things over. I’ll...I’ll be done soon.”  
“Will you be joining me for dinner?”

I had to get out of sitting at the table with him. I didn’t know what Beth and the other maids were making for dinner, but I couldn’t risk my father seeing that I was ill just by being near food. Not everything made me sick; there was just no reason for me to try and hold back being sick. My father would definitely connect the circumstances together.

“Actually, I bumped into Joanna on my way to see you,” I stammered. “She would like me to accompany her elsewhere for dinner.”  
“Ah.” I heard him sigh. “Alright, then. I will be in my study if you need anything.”

I waited until I heard his study door close before getting out of the bath. I wandered back to my bedroom and went through my armoire to find another dress I could lace up myself. The clock on my wall indicated it was two hours too early to leave; the sun wouldn’t be setting for another hour and a half, yet. I sat at my window and picked up the needlepoint I had been working on. Hopefully by the time it was time to leave, it would be finished.

But then it did dawn on me. Perhaps it wasn’t a bright idea to stick around and kill time. I put on my riding boots, held the needlepoint to my side, picked up my money pouch, and headed out. I called up to my father that I was leaving before closing the front door. The stables weren’t too far from the house and I soon found myself stroking my horse’s mane.

“Good evening, Miss Tess,” the stable owner said. “Taking Maple out for a ride?”  
“Yes. I’m not sure when I will be returning her, though.”  
“Stable’s always open.”

I placed my money pouch and needlepoint into the saddlebag before climbing up and going on my way. At least now that I was leaving earlier than usual, I didn’t have to tell Maple to run. My father brought her back for me from a trip to Kentucky. She was a gorgeous Rocky Mountain; it wasn’t a surprise to me that she had almost been stolen on several different occasions. It was always when I was away from her; there had been a few times the stable owner told me that someone had tried to take Maple as their own. According to him, a few punches here and there got the point across that no one could just have her.

Now, when I got to the town and set up to hitch Maple up, the man who owned the stable for the town sidled on up to me. I’d stopped going to the stables to leave her there since he kept wanting to buy her off of me and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. If he wanted a Rocky Mountain so badly, he could go to Kentucky on his own.

“Evenin’, Miss Locke,” he said, rocking back and forth on his feet.  
“Good evening,” I replied, hitching Maple up.  
“Have you reconsidered sellin’ her to me?”  
“No. No, I have not. Look, I understand. She’s beautiful, but she’s mine. My daddy bought her for me. Besides, how would I get home without a horse?”  
“I could offer you another horse!”  
I blinked at him. “No, thank you.”

I took my money pouch and needlepoint out of the saddlebag and wandered over to the saloon. As I usually did, I sat at the bar. Without even asking what I wanted, the man behind the counter poured me my usual -- just a glass of whiskey. I never drank enough to finish the whole glass, but it was all I ever got. The place was just getting busy and I decided to immerse myself in needlepoint. It was going to get loud, so I wanted to get as much done as I could before I had to talk to the barkeep until Dutch arrived.

It didn’t take long for the place to become loud with people having a good time and the saloon girls doing what they did best. When the barkeep wasn’t busy, we spoke; when he needed to serve, I waited for him to come back. There were bouts when we could talk for a long time and there were bouts when we could only talk for a short time. It was during one of the long bouts that I caught a glimpse of the clock and realized that Dutch was late. He came on time every other time we would meet. If it was someone else, I probably wouldn’t have been so worried. It was a good thirty minutes before I was able to sigh with relief when he came through the doors.

“I thought you weren’t going to show up,” I admitted sheepishly when he walked over to me.  
“There was someone I needed to talk to,” he replied. “That your horse hitched up outside?”  
“Yes... Why, is she okay?”  
“Well, she is _now_.”  
“Did someone just try to steal her again?”  
“_Tried_. You’ve had a look about you since I walked in and I know it’s got nothing to do with me being late.”  
I chuckled nervously. “It’s, um...”  
“Should I go first, then?”

He drank the last of my whiskey; thinking back on it now, I probably should have drank the whole thing. They didn’t call it liquid courage for nothing and I was lacking on it. I didn’t realize just how scared I was about the whole situation until Dutch started talking to me. But he had to say something, too; maybe what he needed to say would lessen the lack of courage I had.

“Go ahead.” I grasped onto my needlepoint. “I’m listening.”  
“So something _funny_ happened last night,” he began. “This guy... His body language and clothes gave him away as someone quite wealthy.”

Oh, no. No, I knew where this was going.

“Came up to me, all friendly,” Dutch continued. “Just like two people who are old friends do. He was full of himself, really; almost like he thought I should know who the hell he is.”

He stopped talking. There was a small silence between us before I realized what he was inadvertently asking for.

“Cornelius Locke?” I choked out.  
“Exactly.” He pat my shoulder gently. “I was gonna rob him...”

I went rigid.

“...but then he pulled out a money clip, so I didn’t have to,” he finished.  
“A money clip?”

Dutch took out the aforementioned money clip. It certainly was my father’s; it had his name engraved on it and even the family crest. There must have been a couple hundred dollars in that clip. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do with that information. It was a moment before he returned it to his pocket; he already knew I wasn’t going to ask for it back, anyway.

“Someone told him about us,” I whispered. “He...um...knows a lot...”  
“Of course he does.”  
“Did he say anything else?”  
“The money is a _bribe_, Evie.”  
“Ah. Oh. That’s... Well... Um... _Well_...”

My father wasn’t one for throwing money around unless he really needed to; and of course he felt like he needed to throw money away to bribe someone.

“Apologies, but what is it for?” I wondered.  
“He said to keep away from you,” Dutch explained. “He doesn’t sound like he’s from ’round here.”  
“Daddy spent half of his life in England, and so he adopted the accent.”  
“Now, I’ve got something else that needs saying, but whatever you need to say, just say it.”  
“I’ve...er...been getting sick and my dresses are getting...tighter...”  
“Alright, then.”  
“Dutch, I’m preg--”  
“I already said 'alright'. I know what you are, Evie.”

He kept calling me Evie because I’d told him I hated being called Tessa, Tess, or even Tessie. It made me feel like anyone who said it was calling for a cow or a horse. It was a pretty name, but just not to my liking. Anyone who had taken to calling me Evie was taking it from Evangeline. If I went by Evie, too, it may have been harder to keep track of me. My last name would be recognizable no matter what, though; nothing much I could do there.

“I came to ask you something, so maybe your answer will be easier,” Dutch continued. “You can come back with me or you can stay with your father.”  
It took me a moment to realize what he had said. “That’s not...exactly asking.”  
“It makes sense now given your current situation what your answer _should_ be. It’s unusual for me to keep leaving where we’re set up, so Hosea was getting suspicious.”  
He’d talked about that man before, so I had a slight idea of who he was. “Does he know?”  
“He’s the one who told me to ask you. Not a bad idea, if you think about it.”  
“Dutch--”  
“Don’t gotta be tonight, but it should be tomorrow night. We can stay and you can go home in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

I arrived home in the morning just before my father would be getting up to get ready for church. That gave me just enough time to clean myself up, get dressed, and be downstairs waiting for him. I also arrived home before the maids could come to my room and see if I was decent. With any luck, I would be able to stomach the food that was being made for breakfast. Other than being pregnant, I was rather nervous; it was going to be the last day I saw my father, either for the last time or for a very long time. If I told him I was leaving, he would do anything he could to keep me from doing so; if I didn’t tell him, he would look for me, certainly. There was no easy way to say “goodbye” to him. Also, even though I was leaving, I had to act as if it was just any other regular Sunday.

“Are you well to eat this morning, Miss Tessa?” Beth wondered.  
“Maybe,” I replied, sitting at the dining room table. “I’m unsure right now.”  
“Would you like to begin with tea?”  
“I think that would be best... Father is late.”  
“Mister Cornelius left early this morning. He said he should be back around this time.”

I felt even more nervous; what if he had seen me ride into town? It was unlike him to leave earlier on Sunday; he never left the house to go anywhere else other than church first thing. What if he had seen me? Would he have gone to Father O’Malley on his own? As I was thinking of the possibilities of what he was up to, he strolled into the dining room with a young man behind him. It took me a moment to stand to greet them both.

“Good morning,” I choked out, recovering from the agonizing.  
“Did you sleep well?” my father asked.  
“Yes. Um... Hello...”  
“Oh, yes.” He stepped aside so I could see the young man better. “This is Declan O’Malley.”  
“Nice to meet you. Wait, erm...O’Malley?”  
“The priest at your church is my grandfather,” the young man replied.

I looked at my father and then at Beth; she looked just as cautious as I felt. Of course I knew why he was here. After telling my father that those rich men were boring, he must have gone and asked Father O’Malley what he should do. I didn’t even know he had a grandson; I just knew that his children were all grown up and lived elsewhere now that they were grown. If I wasn’t interested in rich men who scoffed at the idea of an adventurous woman and my father didn’t approve of an outlaw, then who else would I be interested in? From my understanding, Father O’Malley’s two children grew to become a pastor and a nurse. Unless Declan was the nurse’s son and took her maiden name, I knew he was the pastor’s son.

“I see,” I murmured, and then cleared my throat gently. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?”  
“Your father insisted rather strongly,” Declan admitted. “I am also to accompany you to church.”

I sat back down with a quiet sigh. A pastor’s grandson and a pastor’s son. My father must have been very desperate to marry me off to someone, anyone, who wasn’t like Dutch. But he knew just how far I was; did he think marrying into a family like Father O’Malley’s would save me from damnation? I shuddered at the thought.

“May I ask what you do?” I rested my hands in my lap and looked at Declan.  
“Beg your pardon?” he replied.  
“Daddy is an accountant. Your grandfather is the pastor.”  
“I am training to become a pastor, myself.”

I didn’t know what was worse -- a pastor’s wife or a rich man’s wife. At least if I married rich I would be referred to by name in conversation, whereas if I married a pastor I would only ever be called “the pastor’s wife”. I didn’t even know Pastor O’Malley’s wife’s name until she passed away. Ordinarily, pastor’s lived rather small and thought small. They weren’t quite like nuns, wherein they would rid themselves of earthly possessions and deny themselves of things like marriage and physical temptations. Pastor’s just didn’t have many things to their name, was all. Marrying Declan would mean I would have to leave many of the things my father bought for me behind.

“Oh...” I gasped quietly.  
“Is something the matter?” Declan asked.

I smiled and shook my head, though something was wrong -- I never asked Dutch what I could bring or if I was able to bring anything. Most of the items by father bought for me were jewellery, so that wasn’t too difficult to take with me, right? The hardest thing to take may have been Maple. But there was no way I could leave Maple behind. I knew there was a possibility I could make off with more things with Dutch than if I married a pastor’s son.

“Cornelius mentioned that you are in the market for a husband,” Declan mentioned.  
“I am?” I wondered. “Oh. Yes, erm... Yes.”  
“As it so happens, my parents wish for me to marry as well. They sent me here to observe my grandfather, so imagine my surprise when I was told the prettiest girl had not married yet.”  
I knew he was talking about me, but I didn’t want him to be talking about me. “Oh, did Joanna leave for a trip? Maybe that’s why she asked me for dinner last night.”

My father put his face in his hands in shock and Declan just looked at me like I was a complete and utter moron. Joanna was set to be married in the fall, but I just wanted to seem too oblivious to be a pastor’s wife. Of course, that would backfire on me eventually once my father mentioned how smart I was. Well, he couldn’t quite do that now, could he?

“I’m so very sorry,” he agonized, looking at Declan. “She usually is very brilliant; it’s just she recently had her heart broken.”  
“Oh, I see.” Declan waited for Beth to finish pouring tea for him. “Sorry to hear that.”  
“What?” I looked at my father.

We looked at each other for a moment. My father wasn’t one to lie. I followed him into the parlour, leaving Declan at the dining room table, where he explained himself.

“Why are _you_ suddenly lying?” I whispered.  
“I am not,” he whispered back, sounding confused.  
“Daddy, I saw Dutch last night, and he told me what you did and showed me what you gave him.”  
He was quiet for a minute or two. “He was meant to send you a letter, and to stay away from you.”

My father shook his head and headed back into the dining room. I joined him after a moment of trying to not have a fit. I could see that Declan was confused about what had just happened, but neither my father nor myself addressed it.

“You’re the pretty one I am talking about, Tessa,” Declan said.  
“Please call me Evie.” I took a sip of my tea.  
“Well, maybe if we get married, a husband can call his wife whatever he pleases. I will still call you Tessa, because that is your name.”  
“Maybe I just won’t come or reply to you when you call me that, then.”  
“Darling, please, be kind,” my father begged.  
“Your father says you are tempted by adventure,” Declan continued. “That would have to stop, of course.”  
“Absolutely not,” I quickly retorted before looking at my father. “Daddy, this is the same as the other suitors I met. Expecting me to stay home and be nothing but a child bearer, it seems. You taught me how to ride a horse, how to shoot a crossbow and a gun; taught me to read and imagine; and for what? To forget everything just to sit at a window or in the front aisle at church?” I stood with a sharp sigh. “Such a waste of time.”

I stormed out of the dining room; it was barely a few seconds before I heard my father apologizing to Declan and running to come stop me from walking up the stairs. He was calling for desperate measures, but it wasn’t desperate times. Well, not for me, at least. We had the conversation of him losing me many times -- he’d lost my mother to adventure, and he didn’t want to lose me to it, either. My thoughts were ordinarily that he should have thought of it before teaching me the things he had. I never expressed those thoughts, of course. He grabbed my wrist before I could go to my bedroom.

“Tessie, darling, those stories that _man_ tells you will only lead to trouble,” he said, his eyes pleading with me. “Those adventures you want to be part of will surely get you killed. Please. Please, let him and those stories go.”  
“No,” I choked out. “Not when we have gone as far as we have. I cannot do that.”  
“Tess--”  
“I don’t believe I am asking for too much from a future husband, _Father_. Why is it unnatural for a lady to wish not to be cooped inside a house? You could not stop Mama from leaving and chasing her dream, so why would you try to do it with me?”  
“Tessie...”  
“You never should have bothered to teach me all those wonderful things if you were just planning on taking them from me.”

I ripped myself out of my father’s grip and ran upstairs. What I had said to him about my mother was cruel, but true in a sense. I could tell people and myself how little I remembered of the day she ran away with someone else to seek the adventure she wished for. But that would be a lie, itself. I remembered it clearly.

It was a warm summer’s day, in the afternoon. She and I were walking alone through the town while my father was in a meeting at our home. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a braid and her blue eyes almost shone from the sunlight. She was happy, as was I. Her voice was soft while she spoke to me about the adventures she had before me and the ones she dreamed of after me. She’d grown up for a while in a town that was surrounded by adventure -- and it had made her want to join in. For a while, a few years or so, she did manage to join in.

But she met my father and they fell in love. Somehow, he convinced her to marry him rather than continue on the adventures she had always wanted. It didn’t take long for me to show up. Eventually, though... Eventually...she yearned to return to that life. I remember seeing it in her eyes while we walked those streets, as she spoke, as she laughed, as she told me she would always love me no matter what happened. There was a sadness that I never completely understood, not until I grew up at least.

We returned to our home, where she opened the door for me to enter, but she wouldn’t come in after me. I stood there, confused, while she looked up at the house. A man arrived and asked if she was ready to go -- he held her gently, which only made my confusion worsen. He let her go so she could come to me; she crouched in front of me, her blue eyes filling with tears. She took the necklace, a locket, she always wore and put it around my neck, mentioning that no matter where she was she would always be with me. It was time for a new adventure in her life, she said, handing me a piece of parchment.

She kissed my forehead, hugged me, and then went on her way. My father found me standing in the doorway; I was still so confused, but scared, too, because my mother had just left me alone. The parchment my mother had given me was meant for him. Upon reading it, he discovered that he had known the man she ran off with. He’d been sweet on my mother from before my parents met each other. Because I was so young, for the longest time I didn’t fully comprehend why she didn’t come home. It wasn’t until after my father taught me those things that I realized why she had left.

I sat in my bedroom until I heard the front door shut. Looking out the window, I saw that Declan and my father were walking toward the church. I was still going to go, but not with them. I waited a few minutes before heading out on my own. At the church, I sat in the very back as the service began. I paid very little attention to Father O’Malley talking; I only knew it was time to stand or pray by everyone else doing it. Most of the people in the church I grew up with or grew up knowing. If I did marry Declan, and I wasn’t going to, my life was going to consist of birthing children, needlepoint, cooking, cleaning, and sitting at the front during church. Why would I want to live that kind of life? With my being pregnant, as it stood, there was no helping sitting around and doing needlepoint. But perhaps, until I got too big to do anything, I could do as I pleased.

It was halfway through Father O’Malley’s sermon did my father realize I was in church. He slowly got up from where he was sitting with Declan and wandered over to me. I moved over so he could sit, but neither of us said anything. He just held my hand. Even if I was upset with him, he was my father and he wasn’t a bad man, and I certainly was going to miss him. I squeezed his hand gently.

“Tessie, I’m sorry,” he whispered.  
“Don’t be,” I whispered back.  
“It is not about the argument.”

I looked at him, worried. What was he going to tell me this time? There was a pitiful feeling in my stomach. He himself looked sad and worried.

“At Father O’Malley’s insistence, I’m giving you away to Declan,” he said, so quiet that I almost didn’t hear what he said.

I was going to vomit, but this time it wasn’t going to be because I was with child. Of course I was angry, but my father was stressed with work -- clients, meetings, travelling -- and now with my “infatuation” with adventure getting out of control. I would take any of the suitors over Father O’Malley’s grandson if it weren’t for Dutch.

“Please excuse me,” I choked out. “I believe I am going to be sick and I would rather not do it here.”  
“Do you need me to come with you?”  
“No, I do _not_.”

I did the cross on my chest before exiting the church and wandering around to find something to vomit into. Eventually I found an empty water barrel and leaned against it. The heat of the church and now the sun was starting to take its toll. I was nervous, scared, angry, hot, and pregnant, and I still wasn’t vomiting how I wanted to. I just wanted to rid myself of the feeling of needing to.

“Well, don’t you look pretty, Evie.”

I went rigid and looked behind me.

“This town ain’t too bad,” Dutch mentioned. “There’s nothing here to do, though.”  
“Why are you here?” I droned. “You’re going to be seen by somebody, and that somebody might know who you are. Best case, they just tell Daddy that I’m talking to someone.”  
“Easy; I’m just scoping. No harm done. You don’t look well.”  
“I’ve been committed to the pastor’s grandson.”  
“Oh, have you now?”

Dutch grabbed me from behind, causing me to squeal. Even if the people at church now wouldn’t be out for another while, there were still maids and other servants who would be able to merely glance out a window and see us talking to each other.

“You’re not taking back your answer, are you?” Dutch asked.  
“No,” I sighed. “No, I am not.”  
“Good.”

He was just leaning forward when I had to shove him away so I could finally be sick in the barrel. If I didn’t eat something soon, it wasn’t going to end well. Skipping out on so many meals wasn’t good and it most certainly wasn’t making me feel good.

“Sorry,” I huffed.  
“That’s life, right there,” Dutch told me.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You’ve got life growing inside of you.”  
“Well, that’s...true, I suppose.”  
“What time does the supposedly great Cornelius Locke leave?”  
“Usually eight PM.”  
“That house over there is yours?”  
“Mm...”  
“Place is the only thing in this town worth stealing from.”  
“Dutch, I don’t want to dictate what you do and don’t do in regards to robbing, but please don’t rob my house.”  
♞♞♞

“You’ve not said a word since we came home,” my father noted.

I was upset with him; what could I say to him that would make him understand? There was no particular reason to act irrationally since I knew I wasn’t going to be with Declan, but my father himself didn’t know that. Did I want to say something to him? Of course I did. I needed to tell him “goodbye” somehow, without actually saying it. I’d wanted to just spend the day with him, just the two of us after church, but he had invited Declan out riding with us. According to him, he only ever rode about in a horse drawn carriage, not a horse himself. If a lady could get up onto a horse with no issues, then he could, too.

No, he had so much trouble getting up onto the horse my father picked out for him. I couldn’t help myself giggling at this grown man struggling to just get his foot into the stirrup. I really began laughing when he finally got up on the horse and immediately fell off, his foot then getting stuck in the stirrup. I was shushed several times by my father while he helped Declan get properly situated, but it didn’t work. The pastor knew how to ride a horse and he spoke about how he had taught his children to ride horses, too; so had Declan just not been taught or was it something else? None of us spoke of it while we went riding.

What we did speak of is when he got thrown from his horse. In his defence, it wasn’t his fault. His horse had gotten spooked by a group of men who had rode much too close for her liking. My father’s horse also became spooked, but knew well enough not to throw him. Maple was scared, too, of course, but she only shook her head while I tried to calm her down. I really couldn’t stop laughing. It was rude of me to do so, but he had been rude to me. Yes, he could have gotten hurt, but his pride was hurt more than his back.

“Next time lean forward and try to relax her,” I said as he was helped back onto the horse.  
“Maybe it shouldn’t have thrown me,” he retorted.  
“Maybe you just need to learn how to treat a lady right. A horse is as good as its rider. Though, I think in this situation it might not be the case and the horse just so happens to be better than its rider.”

I was almost certain that Declan would be spending the night in the guest room, but as luck would have it, no, he would be returning to his grandfather’s house. I looked at my father, setting the needlepoint down into my lap with a sigh.

“What is there to say?” I asked. “You cannot take care of me when I am ill, so you wish to give me away to someone I don’t even know?”  
“I do not wish it, Tessie.” He sounded upset. “But, as I said yesterday, someone needs to care for you when I am gone.”  
“It doesn’t have to be Declan O’Malley. What he wants me to be is not taking care of me. And don’t be so dramatic, Daddy, you’re still so young.”

That was the truth. My mother and father were both seventeen when I came along. I was sure he had many years left, but he was making it sound like he was going to die the next day. He was just trying to scare me into an unwanted marriage so he had some sort of piece of mind about who I was with. The pastor’s grandson was better than an outlaw, right?

“Don’t you want to go to Ireland?” my father wondered.  
“I will not travel to another country with someone I do not like,” I quickly snapped. “Speaking of marriage plans when we are not married...”  
“Declan just wants to see his homeland. Why not go with his wife?”  
“Because I am not his wife and if he wants to see Ireland so badly, then maybe he should just go himself. He would see his homeland by himself, anyway; I would only just be cooped up in the townhouse.”

My father owned a townhouse in Dublin that I was sure he would let us use. He hadn’t been there in years, but he still had it and had people working there to keep it clean and in working order. I had gone once with him as a little girl on a business trip with him, just after my mother had left. It was an incredibly important meeting and he couldn’t just cancel it. I wasn’t impressed then and I most certainly would not be impressed again.

“You are also very ill, it seems,” my father said. “You did not eat today, barely anything yesterday... And now you are getting sick? I believe I owe Beth an apology. The stress of travelling to that...that _town_ must take its toll on you.”  
“Or perhaps it is stress,” I offered, returning to my needlepoint. You began introducing suitors to me multiple times in one day and now with this talk of marrying Declan?”  
“I... Yes, perhaps it does have something to do with that...”

The sickness during church was due to stress; everything else was because I was pregnant. Either my father truly had not connected everything together or he did know and was just waiting for me to tell him. If I told him now, though, he really would take me to Father O’Malley and make me confess to my sins. And it was going to be after Father O’Malley caught up with me after church to speak with me; he called me a genuine Child of God -- not only did I keep out of trouble, but I regularly attended church, obeyed my father, and now I was going to supposedly marry his grandson. That statement would be retracted quickly.

“You did not eat breakfast and you only had a bite of lunch,” my father murmured. “Would you at least join me for dinner?”  
“Yes,” I sighed.  
“Perhaps you should also rest early tonight.”  
“Maybe.”

Dinner was almost impossible to get through. The only thing that distracted me from the feeling of being sick was my father’s company. He was trying to do the best he could with me, but to no avail. I often wondered why he never remarried. I thought perhaps he had loved my mother too much to do so, or he didn’t think that I would take kindly to another woman; but now I realized he never remarried because he was so busy with work and trying to deal with me. We did have maids when I was a child, just not as many as we did now. He needed to employ more for when his workload became too heavy.

“I apologize for everything, Tessie,” he said quietly. “But you must know I am thinking of your well-being.”  
“I know you are thinking of it,” I agreed.  
“Hopefully once you are married, you will forget those ideas that you wish to pursue.”

Unlikely.

“That does not make me agree anymore than before,” I stated. “If anything, it makes me agree even less.”  
“Tessa--”  
“I know you worry and I know you want me to be taken care of. But I would like to be happy and free.”  
“There is no talking to you about this, is there? I realize that there is adventure in your blood, darling; I do. Perhaps I did wrong by you and stoked the fire by teaching you the things I did and perhaps...perhaps it is my fault you are this way.”  
“Forcing me into a marriage to someone I don’t know or like where I would only be in the house and at the front of the church would make me unhappy. The last thing I want is to hurt you, but...what is the point of having a well-educated daughter if she is only going to be made into a wife for a man who scoffs at the idea that she can even read?”  
“Most high class women are educated, darling.”  
“Most don’t know how to shoot a gun or a crossbow. I enjoy the privileges that I have been dealt and I appreciate them, but there are some I do not enjoy -- like you choosing a husband for me. I am perfectly capable of doing so on my own.”  
“Tessa, need I remind you why you are in the position you are in with Declan? If it weren’t for _him_, I would still be sending suitors your way and not handing you off to--”  
“I would sooner sleep with another woman before marrying Father O’Malley’s grandson.”

My father nearly choked on what he was eating. After calming himself down, he looked at me, his eyes wide. One hand rested on his chest over his heart, and the other rested in his lap. I was now wishing that my father’s horse would have thrown him when he had gotten spooked.

“Tessa Evangeline Locke, what has gotten into you?” he demanded.  
“You know what’s gotten into me, Father -- it’s the _other_ thing you want to get into me,” I muttered.  
“Tessa!”  
“It is not difficult to understand, is it?”  
“You are not a parent. When you are one, you will understand.”

I remained quiet and looked down at my lap. My mother clearly left me behind because she must have thought “that life” wasn’t one for a child. But what loving and doting mother did that? She loved adventure and freedom more than she loved me. That was something I could understand. Would my answer have been “no” if I wasn’t pregnant? I sighed and picked at the food in front of me.

“Daddy, I’m--” I began, but stopped. “Never mind...”

I almost had just told him I was with child; that would only make our conversation worse. It may have even killed him. It was better to just keep it to myself. He finally calmed down and returned to his food. If he was waiting for me to apologize, I was not going to. I refused to, considering I had meant what I said. Word would get around that Miss Tessa Evangeline Locke slept with a woman and then Father O’Malley wouldn’t even want me in the family and he would be sure to tell me I was forever condemned to hell. My father’s reputation would also be ruined.

“What is it?” my father asked.  
“I am sorry for disappointing you, but I just cannot--”  
“That’s enough.” He let out a loud sigh. “Enough.”  
“Father, I love you, but--”  
“I said enough, Tessa. You will marry Declan and you will do so quietly. I will not have you...running about the wilderness with people who do not understand the concept of hygiene.”  
“Just that? _Hygiene_?”  
“No, Tessa, that is not just it. They are outlaws for a reason.”  
“Dutch could have robbed you, but he didn’t.”  
“That does not help the case. As I said earlier, those stories of his will get you killed.”

I excused myself to go to my bedroom. This was not how I wanted to say “goodbye”. But it was my fault it was going that way -- I wanted to make it seem like it was just another normal day. If I dared tell him I was leaving, there was definitely going to be more issues. I’d be committed to an asylum, possibly, and they’d be told not to let me go no matter what I said because there was absolutely no sense in my brain. And the child... That would be taken away and I’d never see it again, or at all. I could possibly see my father again, but not Dutch. My father was so disapproving at this point that he would rather see me locked up than seek adventure.

I didn’t let him come in when he came to say “goodbye” to me; he was off to a meeting. When he left, I peaked out the corner of my curtains and watched his coach disappear. The maids would be settling in for the evening soon as well. I wandered downstairs to sit on the front porch and wait. Dutch couldn’t come calling like anyone else could and I knew that the maids in the house sometimes went to the town I went to to purchase my father’s ink, so there was a chance that they would know who he was.

It was thirty minutes after my father left that Dutch showed up. He was looking around the corner of the house. I shook my head and wandered over to the banister when he looked away.

“What are you doing?” I asked, leaning against the banister.  
“Making sure it’s you and not someone else,” he replied.  
“Are you coming inside?”

He came around to the front so I could lead him into the house. There were things just in the front hall that were worth stealing. The maids would notice right away if anything was missing. We were just about to head up the stairs when Beth came out of the kitchen. Luckily, she was looking down at a pad of paper that had her daily chores written on it. She must have heard me come back inside.

“Miss Tessa, I’m about to finish up for the night,” she said, looking up at me. “Do you need anything before I do?”  
I stood against the closed parlour doors, shaking my head. “No, no, I will be fine. Thank you, Beth.”  
“Alright; goodnight, Miss Tessa.”

I held my breath as she went back into the kitchen. Her looking down at the pad of paper had given me just enough time to hide Dutch in the parlour. I turned around and opened the doors just as he was putting something in his waistcoat’s pocket.

“Anything else?” I asked.

He picked up one of my father’s bourbon bottles and then followed me back out into the front hall. I took him up to my bedroom, where he immediately looked at my travelling trunk.

“That can’t come,” he said, gesturing to it.  
“Oh,” I mumbled.  
“What made you think it could?”  
“I don’t...know...really.”  
“Do you have a smaller one?”

The small travelling trunk I did have was meant for short trips only to other towns. I took it out from underneath my bed and set it on top of the bigger trunk. Dutch shrugged.

“You don’t need much,” he said as I opened my armoire.  
“It’s not as if I will be able to fit into most of these much longer.” I grabbed the dresses that tied up in the front and folded them into the trunk along with underthings. “You can go through my jewellery over there.”

I had enough jewellery that my father had to get a special case made for all of it. There were separate compartments for the rings, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. The jewellery I usually wore consisted of one ring on each of my ring fingers and one on my left index finger, my mother’s locket, and sapphire earrings. I rarely switched out the jewellery I wore.

“When you said you had a lot, I was expecting a lot,” he admitted, opening the case.  
I looked at him. “Is that not a lot?”  
“Not even sure if there’s a word for how much is here. Come here.”

I wandered over, picking up a smaller jewellery case as I did so. It was big enough that a decent amount of jewellery could fit in it, but small enough that it would be able to fit inside the travelling trunk. I didn’t want to intrude into a camp of nineteen people and not contribute anything for them especially since I had all these things I didn’t use or couldn’t use anymore. I also didn’t want to show up with nothing of monetary value -- I was leaving the money behind, after all.

“Not those,” I quickly said when Dutch pulled out diamond earrings. “They were my mother’s.”  
“Anything else that belonged to her?” he asked, not sounding as annoyed as I expected him to be.  
“Just the necklace I’m wearing. Anything else in there is fine...”

He looked through the jewellery I had, purposely picking out the things with the best value. Much of it I didn’t like in the first place. It didn’t take long for Dutch to finish filling up the jewellery case. There was still so much left in the compartments. I placed it in the trunk and placed my needlepoint in the sleeve of it. Dutch was looking around when I went over to my window and opened the seat up. It was where I kept my crossbow and arrows. I kept it close at hand because it was made special just for when my father taught me how to use it. Attached to it was a strap so I could carry it on my back.

“This is okay to bring, right?” I wondered.  
“Should be,” Dutch replied. “You know how to use it?”  
“Very funny. I can bring Maple?”  
“Your horse? Sure. Now do you have a winter jacket? It’s awful cold where we’re set up.”  
“I do not.”  
“It’s almost a day’s trip. You’ll just have to find someplace to get one.”  
“I’ve never had a reason until now to need one and there’s nowhere in this town to buy winter clothes since it doesn’t get cold enough.”

I shut the trunk and picked it up. It was light enough that Maple would be okay to carry it even when I was on her back. The only person who was going to know I was leaving was the stable owner and he would be the first person my father would go see once he realized I wasn’t around anymore. I never left town without Maple, ever. I led him back downstairs to the porch, where he took the trunk from me.

“I could put it on Maple,” I mentioned quietly.  
“I have it,” he assured me. “Don’t worry. Just go get your horse and meet me outside the town.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

I looked at the old man standing behind the counter of the pawn shop when he called out to me. I stuck out like a sore thumb by how I was dressed. There was snow on the ground outside so deep that even Maple had trouble trampling through it; she had never seen snow in her life and neither have I. We both just needed to get our bearings and then we would be fine. I was even carrying the small jewellery case to pawn off some of the jewellery. Dutch couldn’t do it himself, not just because he was known around the parts we were travelling through but because the case was full of jewellery that no one would believe were his.

“Good afternoon,” I huffed, walking to the counter.  
“It’s freezing out,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “You need to put some proper clothes on or you’ll catch your death!”  
“Oh, I’m not from around here.”

I’d taken the liberty of faking an English accent like my father’s. It would at least throw shopkeepers off. I’d had to run it by Dutch, just to make sure it was believable.

“From across the sea, eh?” the old man asked. “I see, I see.”  
“I did not realize just how much I would be seeing of the country and, well...you see how I am,” I pouted. “Could I sell you some jewellery so I have enough spare money to buy proper clothing, sir?”  
“Let’s take a look.”

I set the case on the counter gently, allowing him to open it himself. His eyes went wide. He had truly thought “some” meant “some”. The man inspected the jewellery closely to truly understand how much it was worth. It seemed he was so shocked that he couldn’t really believe his eyes. Looking at the other jewellery he had in the display case, I could see he never had seen anything of true value before.

“You want to get rid of all of it?” he wondered.  
“No, not all of it,” I replied. “Perhaps just enough to get a couple hundred dollars.”  
“I can do that for you.”

The man had to open a safe to get enough money out. I would have sold all of it had Dutch told me not to. I tucked the jewellery case underneath my arm as the old man placed bills on the counter in front of me to count the amount. In my head, I counted with him. My father taught me once that a pawn broker would sometimes try to count quicker than usual to try and trick someone of the amount they were really getting. But, no, he didn’t; he was an honest old man, it seemed, excited to get his hands on some fine jewellery. If I didn’t know any better, he was going to drop dead from pure excitement. Once he was finished, I thanked him and went on my way.

Dutch was hiding around the side of the building with the horses. Maple really wasn’t taking too kindly to the snow, but she would adapt; her breed was meant to do so. I stroked her mane while Dutch counted how much the old man had given to me. He was impressed, to say the least.

“Think he suspected anything?” he asked, handing some money back to me.  
“I don’t think so,” I mumbled.  
“Go buy yourself something pretty; just be quick.”

I made my way across the street to the clothes shop. It barely took me any time to find what I needed and what I liked. The lady who ran the shop came out of the back and shrieked when she saw me. I jumped, looking at her like she was a madwoman.

“Young lady, you will catch your death in this weather!” she scolded.  
“That’s why I’m here, ma’am,” I told her. “Erm, I will need help getting those boots up there, if you don’t mind.”

She quickly stormed over to the shelves I was standing near and stepped up onto the step stool. The bell to the front door rang; I impulsively looked to see who had come in and froze. It was a woman who had come in, but she wasn’t looking in my direction. I recognized her with no problem. The only problem was that if she saw me, there was going to be hell to pay. The lady who owned the shop stepped down and handed me the boots.

“Shall I help you over at the counter?” she inquired.  
“No, ma’am; I’d like to continue looking for a bit, if that’s alright,” I said nervously.

She went and helped the woman who had come in. She was being nit picky about a custom coat she had bought. The shopkeeper was trying to get her out of the store, but to no avail -- the woman wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. Meanwhile, I was pretending to look at different scarves, but was really keeping an eye on the woman. It was ten minutes before she was finally convinced to leave. I let out a sigh of relief and trudged my way up to the counter.

“You bundle up before you leave this place, young lady,” the shopkeeper scolded.  
“Oh, but I--” I stammered.  
“No, no, I will not have someone leave this shop into the cold. I will wrap the shoes you are wearing while you put everything on.”

I did as I was told and was finally able to leave. I trudged through the snow back to Dutch, who did now look slightly upset. I’d taken too long for his liking, and honestly mine.

“Another minute and I was gonna come in myself,” he admitted. “The hell took so damn long?”  
“There was a lady in there who goes to my church.” I strapped my wrapped shoes onto Maple and turned to him. “What was I supposed to do, Dutch? Let her see me? If that happened, she’d ride back to town after seeing me and when Daddy realizes I’m actually gone, she’ll tell him where she saw me last. I had to think on my toes and hiding behind a shelf of scarves was all I could do.”  
“Alright, alright; good on you, then. We need to go now, for good.”

I climbed atop Maple and patted her side. She followed The Count when they began riding out. Even if the woman who had come in had initially seen the back of my head if I had already been paying at the counter, there was a chance she would have just recognized me from that. Then of course she would have seen me for good while I put on my new coat and boots. Maple kept pace with Dutch once we got outside the town.

“It’ll be the last time you can afford luxury like that for a very long time,” he mentioned.  
“At least I got something pretty,” I replied.  
“That you did.”

The ride to the camp took much longer than I expected thanks to the snow. Maple got so tuckered out a few times she couldn’t even gallop. Once she began running again, though, she managed to cover a lot of ground. Her not being able to handle the snow just yet was what I got for only travelling to hot places, even during the winter. Maybe I should have taken her to snow-ridden places through the years that I had her. There wasn’t much I could do about it at this point, but she’d be okay. Hopefully.

Maple stopped just outside the camp, shaking her head. Even when I tried to coax her to keep going, she wouldn’t. I pat the side of her neck with a sigh. This was a horse that didn’t get scared easily and something was scaring her. She’d been fine with rattlesnakes, loud sounds, gunshots... The first time Dutch had come around, she had only been cautious. I was thinking maybe she realized there were more people like him inside and she thought that I was in danger, as well as herself. At least she didn’t try to throw me off and take off in the other direction.

“Get off the horse,” Dutch demanded, getting off of his.  
“Beg your pardon?”  
“Get off.”

I jumped down into the snow and he immediately smacked Maple, which sent her running in the direction of the camp. Someone, somewhere, shouted about her -- asking where the hell she came from and whose horse it was. I only hoped she wasn’t going to wreak havoc once she realized she’d been forced to go inside. Dutch got back up onto The Count and helped me onto the back of it behind him. Some way into the trees a voice sounded out.

“Some wild beast just came runnin’ in here! Ya best be careful!”  
“Always with the jokes, Sean,” Dutch sighed. “Come in.”  
“Who’s this?”  
“Just come in.”

Inside the camp, Maple was pulling up onto her hind legs and trying to kick anyone who even tried to get close to her. I whistled and she quickly galloped over to where Dutch stopped. She had been blocked from going any further and had felt threatened. It wasn’t like it wasn’t called for; the men who had stopped her looked menacing enough. They were confused, too.

“Finally!” a woman exclaimed. “A new face around here that doesn’t belong to a man.”

I got off the back of The Count and grabbed Maple’s reins. She was going to have to relax sooner or later -- it was going to have to be sooner; taking the carrot I held out for her, she calmed down slightly. I pat the side of her neck while Dutch gathered everyone inside the camp.

“Sprightly thing, ain’t it?” Sean asked. “She yours?”  
“Yes. Maple didn’t scare you or anything, did she?”  
“Nothin’ I couldn’t handle; gave me a right surprise, is all.”  
“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Dutch announced. “This is Evie; she’s one of us now and you treat her as such. She’s not from ’round here, either, so...try to make her feel welcome. And she’s with child, so I don’t want any funny business. If one of you ladies could help her get situated, that’d be a help. Evie, you can hitch Maple over there.”

He grabbed my travelling trunk from The Count’s back and walked off. I gripped Maple’s reins, leading her over to the hitching post. She was used to being in a stable; the most time she had been at a hitching post for was less than ten hours. Hopefully she would be able to adapt to being outside all the time on top of the snow.

“What’s your horses name?”

I looked behind me and down. There was a little boy standing there; he wasn’t scared of her, was he? A horse running into the middle of any place with many people would startle them.

“Her name is Maple,” I replied gently. “What’s yours?”  
“I’m Jack.”  
“Did you want to come pet her? She won’t hurt you; I promise.”

He wandered over and I picked him up so Maple could at least know what was coming. Jack gently stroked her mane. She was calm for him. I was surprised, really; she had never been around children. I only got her when I was fourteen and there weren’t many children in my town to begin with. Then, I only took her out for riding and never rode her through the town. The only time I had ever been around children was in church.

“Where’s your mother?” I asked as I was putting him back down.  
“She’s talking to Uncle Dutch.”  
“‘Uncle’?”  
“Jack!” a lady was calling. “Jack, where are you?”  
“Over here, Mama!” Jack called back, patting Maple’s side.

His mother bolted over to where we were. She looked surprised to just see Jack with Maple behaving calmly. Maple obviously hadn’t had a good introduction to everyone; I couldn’t blame anyone if they wanted to stay away from her, especially a mother and a child.

“Oh,” she huffed. “Hello.”  
“Good afternoon,” I said.  
“Does Maple like snacks?” Jack wondered.  
“Don’t bother her; she needs to get settled,” his mother interjected.  
“He’s not being a bother,” I assured her. “Here, Jack.”

I grabbed an apple out of Maple’s saddle bag and handed it over. He took it and reached up so Maple could take it, and then wandered over to his mother.

“Your name is Evie?” she asked. “I’m Abigail.”  
“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry for Maple.”  
“Don’t worry about it. How far are you? Not that long, it looks like.”  
“One month at the least; two at the most.”

Jack walked off to go do something else rather than listen to two ladies talk to each other. Two men then rode in on horses; one of them hitched his horse and went elsewhere immediately and the other one was looking at me curiously from the beginning.

“What’s this?” he asked.  
“Evie,” Abigail replied, sounding not too happy all of a sudden. “Dutch brought her in just a few minutes ago.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“Be nice to her; she’s pregnant.”  
“How much did it cost for Dutch to do that?”  
Abigail sighed, exasperated. “Micah, you’re kiddin’ me.”

I looked from Abigail to Micah a few times. What was he asking, exactly? Was he asking the cost to go see me every week or something else? I was quite confused.

“How much do you cost?” Micah asked, looking at me.  
“I beg your pardon?” I replied.  
“Fancy lady, huh? But are you really a lady?”  
“Just ignore him, Evie; come with me,” Abigail groaned.  
“It’s a simple question!” Micah complained. “How much did a night cost with you for Dutch to get you pregnant?”

It felt like all the air got knocked out of my body. Did I come across that way? I’d been told from the very beginning there would be all types of people I didn’t regularly come across when I lived with my father.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “Are you insinuating that I am a prostitute?”  
“What else would you be? Oh, are you a pick pocket? That’s not as fun as--”  
“I am neither of those things, sir.”  
Micah pointed at me and looked at Abigail. “Fancy thing, ain’t she? Well, then, what are--”

Before he could finish speaking, Maple kicked him to the ground with a whinny. For a moment I was shocked it had even happened. She’d never kicked anyone before. Abigail just looked at him while he was groaning on the ground about my “stupid horse”. She grabbed my wrist and dragged me away.

“Do I look like one?” I asked.  
“Look like what?” she replied. “A prostitute?”  
“Yes.”  
She stopped in front of a tent. “If you look like anything, you look rich.”

I gave her a sheepish smile and then looked down at the ground.

“Miss O’Shea came from that kinda life,” Abigail told me. “She didn’t look it, though, at least not while she was with us. She didn’t work like the rest of us, either.”

Micah was hollering about something from the other side of the camp about how if I was rich, why hadn’t I brought anything for the camp? He’d come in after Dutch took my travelling trunk, so I was quite annoyed with him to make such an assumption.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” I whispered.  
“What? Why are you whispering?” Abigail sounded confused. “If Dutch wants you here, it’s fine. Others might not be fine, but it’s best if you just ignore ’em. Hello, Miss Grimshaw.”

I turned to see an older woman walking toward us. She stopped in front of us with a sigh and rubbed her gloved hands together.

“Abigail, go find something to do,” she said. “I’ll help Evie.”  
“I brought things for the camp,” I told her, panicked.  
“Calm down; I know you did. Dutch already told me.” She shook her head. “What can you do?”  
“How do you mean?”  
“Can you wash dishes? Darn a sock? Wash clothes? Chop vegetables?”

After each question, I shook my head. She looked so disappointed.

“Then what can you do?” she snapped.  
“I can hunt and shoot a gun,” I replied slowly. “Dutch has my crossbow.”  
“We usually save the hunting for the boys.”  
“Miss, uh, um... I’m sorry...”  
“Heaven’s sake, get it together! It’s Grimshaw.”  
“Miss Grimshaw, I came so I didn’t have to be forced to be a wife. I know that, Dutch knows that, and I suppose my father will learn that, too.”  
“You can’t be out hunting when you get huge.”  
“I am not huge yet. Now, I would happily do all those other things when that time comes, but that time is not now, is it?”  
“Well...I suppose not. Alright, fine. Just...get yourself comfortable first. Make yourself familiar with the camp; you’ll be sharing Dutch’s tent.”

She swatted the air as if to tell me “never mind”, turned, and walked away. I was confused as to what she meant by familiarize myself with the camp. From where I was standing, I could see the campfire, other tents, the area where meat was prepared, and where the horses were hitched. Unless she meant formally introduce myself to everyone else, I didn’t think that was really going to happen. If there was anything my father did for me the most, it was introduce me to people. I wandered over to the tent that I had seen Dutch walk into with my trunk.

“You sure this is a good idea?” a man was asking him, which made me stop alongside the tent.  
“What’s got you so worried, Arthur?” another man wondered.  
“She ain’t one of us. She don’t understand this life. Coming into camp is just another mouth to feed and we’re already low on food.”  
“Go buy some meat, then,” Dutch replied.  
“With what?”

I wandered around the corner just as he was handing one of the men some of the money I got from selling my jewellery.

“She didn’t come empty-handed,” Dutch mentioned.  
“No,” the man replied. “Still don’t understand this, though.”

He stormed off toward the hitching posts.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” the other man sighed. “Arthur will come around eventually.”  
“Is it too late to mention that Maple kicked Micah?” I inquired. “He... He seems fine...”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Dutch said. “Are you okay?”  
I looked at the other man. “Do I look like a prostitute to you?”  
“No,” the man replied.  
“I’m sorry; I forgot my manners. I’m Evie.”  
“Hosea.”  
“Oh, _you’re_ Hosea.”  
“I don’t know why Dutch thought he could keep you a secret for so long. If he’s taking off for a day at a time just to see you then you must be something else.”  
“I promise I’m not a prostitute.”  
“Okay, that’s enough,” Dutch interjected. “You don’t look like one and you never did.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

“Mister Matthews, may I ask you a question?”  
“Didn’t you just ask one?”  
“No... Oh, no, I suppose I did.”  
“Hosea is fine; ask your question.”  
“I didn’t want to ask Dutch, but was Miss O’Shea fancy?”

There was no way a rich woman couldn’t look rich at some point. Even if I were to dress in clothes the common people wore, there were certainly going to be people who could tell I was from a life of luxury. I didn’t know if Dutch was the right person to ask, considering I was the aftermath of Miss O’Shea leaving him. If she hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have been where I was, and I would have still been meeting with suitors. I’d only been in the camp for a day, maybe a bit more, and I already was receiving quite a few dirty looks from some of the people. I’d been expecting it, but it was different from thinking of it and then experiencing it. Just when I was thinking of it, I had caught Hosea just as he was passing Dutch’s tent.

“Was she fancy?” Hosea asked himself. “Well, yes and no. She didn’t do any work and she dressed in clothes as nice as yours.”  
“Really?” I sighed, setting my needlepoint down on my lap. “Abigail told me otherwise.”  
“Some of her clothes weren’t as nice, of course, but I suspect she got them after she came here.”

Pearson, the cook, was complaining about there not being a good amount of meat for the stew he was making. It was then that Arthur took off on his horse. He just left to go hunting? And there I was thinking I needed to wait for permission or for someone to ask me to go. But then when I did get up, putting my needlepoint back into my travelling trunk, Hosea stopped me.

“Is something wrong?” I mumbled.  
“You don’t know the area yet,” he replied. “You should take someone with you if you’re going.”  
“You’re...probably right...”  
“Charles!”  
The man who had ridden back in with Micah just after I arrived looked over at us from his bow. “Yeah?”  
“Take Evie out hunting. Help her get to know the area.”

Charles didn’t argue; he just went over to his horse and waited for me. I climbed on top of Maple and slipped my crossbow over my head before following Charles out of the camp. It was evident early on that there was no way we were going to go very fast. He didn’t say a word to me about anything until how slow we were going got to him.

“We’d go a lot faster if you didn’t ride side saddle.” He pulled on the reins of his horse to let Maple catch up. “It’ll be easier for you to stay on if we need to hightail it.”  
“My daddy taught me how to ride like a lady,” I replied quietly.  
“Yeah, well, you can’t really afford to ride like a lady anymore. Just swing your other leg over the other side of the saddle and deal with it.”

I did as I was told and adjusted myself slightly. It certainly felt...strange, but once we got moving again it definitely felt a whole lot more secure. Charles didn’t say another thing about anything; we just rode in silence for a while until we reached a clearing with a few bucks and does.

“Didn’t Dutch give Arthur money for meat?” I muttered to myself.  
“There are twenty some odd people in the camp,” Charles said, looking at me. “It goes quick. Is there no shortage of food where you’re from?”  
“In Arkansas?” I thought for a moment. “Not that I know of. Not in my city, at least.”  
“Word around camp is that you’re rich. Why would a rich lady want to be out in the cold with a bunch of outlaws? Or hunting, for that matter.”  
“I come from a wealthy family; that is true. My mama left when I was young and my daddy never remarried. She left to return to the life she had before me. Whatever this is...it’s in my blood.”  
“Still. Leaving all that money behind. You must have had your life set up for you.”  
I bit my lip with a sigh. “That is true, too. I don’t know if Dutch would had decided on his own eventually or not, but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Mister Matthews saying something about me. I don’t know exactly what he said, but it was enough to persuade Dutch to bring me here.”  
“You could have said ‘no’.”

I shook my head and took my crossbow off my back. That wasn’t a statement I was going to rebut until I needed to do what was needed. I’d meant it when I said I could hunt and I’d meant it when I said I would do chores around the camp once I got too pregnant looking to actually ride out and hunt. I set up a shot, and sent an arrow flying directly at a buck’s neck. The sound it let out alerted the other bucks and does, sending them running. That was bound to happen and couldn’t be avoided.

“What have you hunted before?” Charles asked as we rode over to it.  
“Mostly foxes, wild turkeys, and hares,” I replied as I jumped down. “Could you help me, please?”

He hopped down from his horse and grabbed the buck’s antlers. I didn’t have a chance to reach down and help him myself; he picked the whole animal up and tied it to Maple. It sounded like he had a little bit of issue getting it up and onto her; I didn’t realize just how heavy it probably was.

“Good work,” he praised. “Now, why _did_ you say ‘yes’? To coming here, I mean.”  
“There are some different reasons.” I pat Maple’s side. “I’ve always disliked being cooped up inside and I’ve always wanted some sort of adventure. Then, my daddy found out about Dutch and I and promised me to my pastor’s grandson. I’m also with child, so I was going to end up running away myself eventually.”  
“You met this pastor’s grandson?”  
“Of course I did. He told me what he expected of me and I refuse to live that way.”  
“Oh.”  
I gestured to the field, where more does and bucks had gathered. “Will you be getting anything?”  
“Sure.”

It didn’t take long for Charles to take down a buck of his own and tie it to the back of his horse. From where we were, he made a comment that Arthur was heading back to camp. I looked in the direction we had come from and sure enough, there was Arthur with what looked like a bird tied to his horse. The animals Charles and I had come across must have gathered after he had passed by.

“I don’t think he knows how to track,” Charles admitted. “Or even hunt properly. You know, he came into camp last week with something that looked like a rabbit.”  
“Oh, dear,” I mumbled.  
“Come on; let’s head back.”

We got back up onto our horses and headed back in the direction of the camp. I’d not asked him anything about his lineage; I thought it rude to ask. Clearly he was of a... What was the correct way to put it? I never knew how to ask people what they were. I’d never been taught how to ask those kinds of questions; I had heard my father’s clients refer to Beth and the other maids as...

“Is it okay if I ask what your, erm...ethnicity is?” I asked.  
“It’s easy, isn’t it?” he replied.  
“I can see that you’re...uh...African American, but...”  
“My father was; my mother was Indian.”  
“Charles, I am very sorry if I--”  
“It’s fine. Really. I get that rich folks aren’t used to treating people like me equally.”  
“Curiosity got the best of me.”  
“What are _you_, then? Let’s make it even.”  
“My mama and daddy are both white Americans, but my daddy’s side came from England and he was raised in England for a while. As for my mama... I don’t know much about her. She had an accent that’s different from mine and it wasn’t from England, either. I think she might have been...Welsh? Scottish? Definitely not Irish.”  
“And you’re rich. How important?”  
“As soon as my daddy realizes I’m missing -- if he hasn’t yet -- he’ll be trying to find me. He’s an accountant for a lot of important people in states as far as Nevada, so...I’d say...pretty important.”

Charles stopped in front of the camp entrance right in front of Maple, just so the horses were in a T shape. The last thing I really wanted to do was make anyone angry; it hadn’t been right or polite to ask him what I had, had it? He didn’t look angry, but he could feel angry. Maple huffed when Charles didn’t move right away.

“Look, there’s no hard feelings, alright?” he told me. “I’m newer here, too, just like you. But I still don’t know how anyone else might react to being asked their background. So just..._don’t_.”  
“Okay.” I bit the inside of my cheek for a few seconds. “Charles, I really am sorry.”  
“Seriously, don’t worry about it. We’re fine. You okay to go in? I’ll help you take the buck to Pearson.”

We headed into the camp quickly; if we took too long the meat on the bucks wouldn’t be good anymore. By the look of things, Pearson didn’t seem too pleased with the rabbit Arthur had brought. He turned just in time to see us hitch up our horses, and wandered over.

“Nice buck, Charles,” he mused as Charles pulled the buck off of Maple.  
He gave Pearson a dirty look and stopped pulling. “It isn’t on my horse. _That_ one is.”  
“The _princess_ here didn’t shoot it, did she?”  
“Of course she did. Do you think that crossbow is for decoration?”  
“Never know with those rich types.”  
“‘Rich types’?” I asked, looking up at Charles.  
“Don’t let him get to you,” he muttered. “You can go; I’ve got this.”  
“So she can shoot an animal but not carry it?” Pearson snorted. “Of course she’s got the--”

He stopped talking when Charles gave him an even dirtier look and I looked back at him. I knew why he had stopped and I knew what he was going to stay. Of course I had the black man doing my work for me. Is that really how he saw me? Is that how any of the others saw me? Charles looked down at me and then back at him.

“She’s got the what?” he asked, visibly and understandably upset. “Say it.”  
“Never mind,” Pearson sighed.  
“Good.” Charles motioned to the buck, still laying on top of Maple. “You can handle this, then. I said go, Evie.”  
***

“Eat this,” Dutch insisted, holding a bowl of stew out to me.  
Just the smell of it... “I don’t think I can.”  
“It’s not because it’s the buck you killed this morning, is it?”  
“No. If I eat it, I might...end up wasting it, if you know what I am saying.”  
“When was the last time you ate?”

Not since before I left to join Dutch. I was hungry, definitely, but there was no way I could allow myself to eat and then vomit later on. That would be such a waste; someone else could make good use of it. I’d eat something when I knew I wouldn’t be sick. I understood that the people in the camp took care of each other as best they could, but I wasn’t one of them and some of them were making it clear to me that perhaps I never would be one of them. Even if I wanted to show my worth, there was someone there to put that worth onto someone else like what happened with Charles. After Pearson, I had tried to speak with Abigail, but she just pretended I wasn’t even there. It wasn’t like she couldn’t hear me; I was standing right in front of her trying to speak with her and she refused to even look me in the face.

“Two days,” I mumbled, ashamed. “Maybe three?”  
“Then you need to eat,” Dutch pressed.  
“Please give it to someone else; I don’t know, someone who was able to get it yesterday but not today.”

I’d picked up on the eating habits quickly based on the night before. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on; they...we...couldn’t afford to feed every single person every day. I knew I was going to have to eat eventually, lest I starve to death.

“Charles told me about what happened this morning with Pearson,” Dutch mentioned.  
“It has nothing to do with Pearson,” I said quickly. “I have nothing against him or his cooking; I’m really just worried that I’m going to waste something that someone else can have.”  
“Alright, then. Javier! When was the last time you ate?”

Dutch walked off and his place was filled by Abigail. She looked nervous for some reason. Did she think I would be mad at her for ignoring me? I was more along the lines of crying upset rather than screaming upset. I inhaled sharply, doing my best to quell the sick feeling in my stomach, as I looked at her.

“I’m sorry...for ignorin’ you today,” she told me. “I know it has to be scary since you’re with child and...we’re mostly treatin’ you like _you’re_ the criminal here.”  
“I can understand,” I replied. “There is no way I can completely ever know what it is like to have grown up poor, or never knowing when I was going to eat next. I did not have to pretend to be something just to earn some money. I made a heavy decision when I agreed to come with Dutch and...and...”  
Abigail frowned. “‘And’?”

I ran out the back of the tent and into the forest. It didn’t take Abigail long to join me. I began vomiting and she held my hair back. The cold air from winter helped enough with the natural sick feeling, but as soon as the stew was involved there was no avoiding it.

“If it helps, Pearson’s cookin’ ain’t very good,” Abigail said. “You’re not missin’ out on much.”  
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I moaned, standing up.  
“Well, it ain’t _that_ bad.”  
“No, not that. I am sorry for coming here.”  
“Well, by the sound of things, Hosea asked for you to be here.”

I sighed and we made our way back to the tent. Abigail looked confused when I went into my travelling trunk and pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste. I saw the way she was staring at me like I was insane and looked at what was in my hands.

“What are you doing?” she asked.  
“Brushing my teeth...?” I replied. “Is that not something you do?”  
“Most folks don’t. You really _are_ rich.”

Even amidst her confusion, I did what I felt was needed and returned my things to my travelling trunk. Abigail and I were about the same age, but she seemed like she was much older. Maybe it was because of Jack; maybe it was because of the life she’d lived for so long. She sat with me at the front of the tent while I continued my needlepoint.

“Why would someone like you think about talkin’ to Dutch?” she inquired.  
“Dutch just so happened to be there when two other men were bothering me,” I sighed. “I suppose I looked uncomfortable, so he decided to pretend to be with me. It did not take long for the truth to come out as to why he was able to pull it off so well.”  
“So you just talked to him because you were a...what is it...‘damsel in distress’?”  
“You could say that. He told me stories. It is nice to put names to faces, now. I said it to Charles and I will say it to anyone else who feels the need to ask me why I am here -- if it were not for Hosea asking me here, then I would have gone on my own eventually.”  
“Why do you say that? You could have a real house for your baby.”  
“My daddy doesn’t even know I am with child. The best thing that would possibly happen is that I marry the pastor’s grandson whom I was promised to and never see the baby; the worst thing is I would be committed to an asylum and I never see the baby and anyone else ever again. He worries about me, but when he found out about Dutch I suppose he...panicked. I pleaded with him and yet...”  
“You think he’s realized you’re gone yet?”  
“He probably has.”

I wasn’t going to mention to her that I knew she had lied to me about Miss O’Shea; it wasn’t worth the effort to get an apology. Besides, there was a reason she had done it and it wasn’t my place to ask why. She must have been polite to me to begin with because we were in front of Jack. Why she was talking to me now and treating me well was something I wasn’t going to ask about, either.

“I said you were scared,” she mentioned. “But _are_ you scared?”  
“That is...quite a good question,” I mumbled. “Truth be told, I do not know. Perhaps I am, but if that is the case I was even more scared when my daddy told me he had promised me to Declan. Oh, that is the pastor’s grandson.”  
“You went to church?”  
I nodded. “Mm-hm. Every Sunday, ever since I could remember. I suppose it is no use now, is it?”

I would have to completely go out of my way, possibly sneak off, to find a church where I would be fine going to. But the problem at hand was that word spread in the church like wildfire; there would be news of someone in one state and it would quickly make its way to the other, just by the sheer need to gossip. That would be one way that my father could find me quickly. Other than that, what was the point in going to church now? I had lied to my father, lied to Beth and Father O’Malley, participated in premarital...activities, and was going to have a child born out of wedlock, and now I was hiding in the middle of the woods in the freezing cold with people my father would take ill over. There was no reason for me to continue going to church. I was no longer a “child of God”, as Father O’Malley called me.

“Why would you?” Abigail asked. “You’re already here.”  
“Church was the one place where I was welcomed with open arms and open hearts.” I sighed and folded one leg over the other, nearly done with the needlepoint. “Walk into any church looking like me and it will be a guarantee that I would not be turned away or ignored.”  
“Not like here?”  
“That Irish man. Sean? He hasn’t acknowledged me, either. He was fine speaking with me yesterday before it came out I was rich.”  
“Don’t mind Sean,” Dutch said, coming in from the back of the tent. “That boy doesn’t like rich folk.”  
“Well...” I was aggressively stabbing the needlepoint, “it is not as if I asked to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”  
“You should slow down,” Abigail suggested.  
“If I thought myself better than anyone here, I would not have agreed to come.”  
“I know that,” Dutch assured me. “The others might not.”  
“I know, now,” Abigail chimed in.  
“In any case, I am _sorry_ that I chose to leave luxury behind just so I would not be caught in a marriage I did not approve of and that I would prefer to be with the man who was even remotely kind enough to listen to me.” I got up and put the needlepoint back in my travelling trunk, and slammed the lid shut. “And I am _not_ a princess.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

“Abigail, come here for a moment, would you?” I asked with a small wave.

I turned to my travelling trunk and pulled out one of the dresses I no longer fit in. Sure, I could wait until I had the baby to wear it again, but it was really just taking up space and wasn’t going to any good use. Abigail looked to be about my size and I thought the best way to get it off my hands was to give it to her. She walked over to Dutch’s tent with Jack trailing behind her.

“This doesn’t quite fit me anymore,” I told her, holding the dress out to her. “So I was just wondering if you would wear it.”  
“You’re just...givin’ it to me?” she said, taking it. “What’s the catch?”  
“No catch. It isn’t really any use to me just sitting here and I just thought...maybe...you would like it. It isn’t too, erm, fancy if you’re worried about it.”  
“Well...” She held the dress to her chest with a sigh, “thank you. Oh, I just remembered. Before he left this mornin’, Dutch wanted me to make sure you ate somethin’. You’ve been here for a few days now, right? He said it’ll be a week tomorrow. How are you still standin’?”  
“If I eat anything, it may end up going to waste. I don’t have much of an appetite to begin with.”

Abigail and Charles -- and obviously Dutch and Hosea -- were the only people in the camp to even talk to me. Jack talked to me, too, but he was a child. The only time Pearson spoke to me was to call me “princess” and still refused to believe that I had shot that buck; and I didn’t even want to acknowledge the things that Micah said to me. I knew that I needed to leave the immediate area of the tent to try and get anyone else to talk to me, but whenever I stepped out one of those two men said something to me to make me feel bad about myself. I had tried to say “hello” to Sean, but he pretended like I wasn’t even there.

“Offer him somethin’,” Abigail suggested.  
“What?”  
“Not like _that_.”  
“I could give him something that would make him money, but I want him to talk to me not because I gave him such. I am not my daddy. Sean and everybody else has their r-reasons not to like me or...t-talk to me.”  
“Oh, honey, no, don’t cry.”

I waved her off and decided to go out with Maple before I burst into uncontrollable tears in an area full of people who I didn’t want to give a reason to hate me even more. I grabbed my crossbow just in case and headed out in a hurry. On my way, I passed by Hosea and Dutch but was in such a hurry to leave that I didn’t even bother to stop and tell them where I was going. I didn’t quite care where I ended up; just as long as I could do my crying in peace. It wasn’t long until I came to a hill; I contemplated going into town to sit inside the church. At least I would be completely welcome there, and it wasn’t Sunday so there wasn’t a big enough group of people for word to get back to my father about where I had been seen last. In the end, I shook my head and turned Maple around, instead opting for a clearing where not even animals were gathered.

I hopped off and sat against a boulder. If I had stayed with my father, I would have been crying about something different. Knowing how afraid he was, Declan and I would have been married within a few days. I could have been married. Then again, I could have also been stuck in an asylum. Never had I been so conflicted about choices. I thought I had made the easy decision, but I was having second thoughts. It wasn’t as though I wanted to leave, exactly; if I returned to my father after making “a show” of my running away, he would surely drop dead at the sight of me. Declan would surely back out of marrying me on account that I was such a prima donna. Going back to my father would also come along with the whole town knowing what I had done. Was it better to have a whole town think I was a harlot or a small group of people hate me because they believed I was just some snobby rich woman?

Who was I kidding? I probably was snobby without actually realizing it. Until Charles, I only rode side saddle; then I didn’t want to eat the stew, which was from being pregnant and not “class”; of course there was the teeth brushing; and I couldn’t forget the way I spoke. Would it have been easier to ask Dutch if we could have just lied from my upbringing from the start? Apparently he did “preach” truth, but from my understanding he and Hosea were leading quite the scam. Was there any point to lie, though? Wouldn’t the truth come out eventually? Dutch wanted everyone to treat me the same way they treated everyone else, but it was clearly hard to do so when I didn’t understand even the tiniest bit of their lifestyle.

“You okay?”

I jumped at hearing Charles voice. I hadn’t heard him approach at all and Maple hadn’t alerted me to his presence. At least she was comfortable. I looked at him and then immediately away, wiping my tears away. What grown woman ran off just so she could cry in the middle of a field? What _any_ grown person did that? People needed to be alone sometimes, yes, but to actually run away and cry? How much more pathetic could I get?

“Dutch asked me to come find you,” Charles admitted. “He doesn’t really know what the hell is going on; he’s back at camp trying to figure it out, though.”  
“I am pregnant in what feels like a pit of copperheads who wish to kill me,” I choked out as he crouched next to me. “The other ladies that aren’t Abigail won’t look at me and if they do, their eyes are like daggers. Only four out of twenty-something people will talk to me, five if you include Jack. Two of the others only wish to speak to me when it is convenient to poke fun at my upbringing or to make comments about my _assets_.”  
“You’ve tried talking to everyone else?”  
“Sean and some of the other ladies. He was the first one to speak to me when I first arrived. I realize I have only been here for less than a week, but...”  
“You’re trying.”  
“Am I? If I gave Sean or anyone else my jewellery to sell for money, then they would speak to me.”  
“That’s no way to make friends. The way I see it, they see that your skin is thin, and they’re waiting for you to crack under pressure and return to wherever the hell you came from. They don’t think you can actually live out here and be okay with it.”

I sighed and rested my head against the boulder. He was right. How long before I would hate living in the freezing cold? How long before I got tired of being woken up by some drunken idiot’s blathering in the middle of the night? How long before I missed maids waiting on me? How long before I stopped trying so hard to fit in? I was bound to run back to my father eventually, at least in their heads. They were questioning just how strong my loyalty was. Most rich people’s loyalty was so incredibly thin that it was essentially invisible.

“I’ve only been here for a month,” Charles continued. “But from what I know about Dutch, he wouldn’t have let you come if he didn’t see something in you.”  
“Mister Matthews--” I began.  
“He didn’t have to listen to Hosea.”  
“No... No, I suppose not...” I inhaled sharply, trying to gain some composure.  
“Don’t let Pearson and Micah get to you. That’s a start.”  
“I am sorry for making you come out to find me.”  
“Don’t mention it. You okay now?”

I nodded, and he got up. He searched around in his saddle bag before returning to my side. Charles was holding an apple out to me. I looked at him, not exactly impressed.

“Dutch won’t let me bring you back unless you eat something,” he admitted.  
“How would he know I even ate it?”  
“He has my word that you’re going to eat it one way or another. You’ll starve to death before you can have that baby.”

I sighed as he handed me the apple. There was no use fighting against it, was there? Charles was right. There was no hesitation when I sunk my teeth into the apple, but I wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t feel sick, so perhaps that was a good sign of what I could eat safely without feeling the need to vomit. He seemed satisfied enough that I’d eaten the apple as quickly as I did and mentioned that we could head back to camp whenever I was ready.

“Can you help me up, please?” I asked.  
“Sure.”

Charles grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled me to my feet. Soon I probably wasn’t even going to be able to get on top of Maple if I was already unable to stand on my own. Granted, I had been sitting on the ground. Before getting back on Maple, I ran my hands along my clothes to get rid of any excess snow.

“You sure you’re ready to head back?” Charles inquired.  
“Yes.”

On the way back, though, I asked for him to stop again when I caught a glimpse of a doe in a clearing. I grabbed my crossbow and hopped back off Maple. The doe hadn’t noticed I was coming, and so I was able to shoot her cleanly in the neck. If I was returning to camp, it wasn’t going to be empty-handed. Charles helped me put her on Maple’s back and we rode off back in the direction of the camp. But it wasn’t long until this time he stopped. Maple and I stopped alongside him. I was confused for only a moment, until I realized there were people off in the distance. Charles looked cautious. If we continued on that way, we would run into them. It seemed like he was listening closely. I could hear voices coming from their direction, myself, but he must have heard better than me.

“We can’t go that way,” he told me. “Follow me.”  
“Why can’t we?” I mumbled when we began moving again.  
“Dutch ever tell you about the O’Driscolls?”  
“Not much.”  
“Well, just...stay away from ’em. You can usually tell it’s them by their accents.”  
“Which is...?”  
“Irish. We can cut through the trees over here.”

Maple trotted behind Charles as we went through the forest. It took a while to get through since we had to be quiet and therefore couldn’t get our horses to run. Soon enough, though, we arrived back in camp. As Charles was taking the doe off of Maple, Dutch quickly walked over. I was getting myself ready to get yelled at or scolded, but that wasn’t the case.

“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“I just needed to be alone,” I replied.  
“Charles?”  
“She ate the apple, at least,” Charles said.  
“Good.” Dutch pat my shoulder. “Eat another one. Hosea and I need to go back out, so just calm down.”  
“There were O’Driscolls out on the trail.”  
“Were you two okay?”  
“Fine. We took the long way around.”

I sighed and followed Charles over to where Pearson chopped up the meat for the stew. His cleaver just came down on a rabbit’s head when we approached. No wonder he was always covered in blood; could this man be any less graceful?

“Hey,” Charles said. “Evie brought this back.”  
“Oh, so the princess came back after all,” Pearson jabbed.  
“Do you at least talk to the women you pay for nicely?” I snapped. “Just so they can tolerate you for those less than mediocre five seconds?”  
  
Both Charles and Pearson stood there in absolute silence for a moment. It wasn’t lost on me that the only women Pearson could possibly afford were prostitutes, because, really, who would want to marry or be in a relationship with someone as rude and crude as him? I turned on my heel and returned to Dutch’s tent.  
***

“Evie, take this,” Dutch said, handing me my small jewellery case. “Ride out with Sean.”

I sighed, wandering over to where Maple was hitched. Sean was nice enough to wait for me at least, but he still hadn’t said a word to me since the day I arrived. It had now almost been two weeks since I came in. He must have known where we were going, though he didn’t make any mention of it to me since that would require him to speak to me. One way or another, I was going to make him talk to me.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we rode out.

Silence. I rolled my eyes; what was Dutch thinking, sending me out with someone that refused to acknowledge my presence? The other ladies had at least stopped giving me eye-daggers. They must have thought I wouldn’t even last the first week there, much less make it to the second week. I was not such a shrinking violet that I would become so stressed by the amount of people ignoring me. Even Pearson stopped giving me a hard time when I had come in one day with two hares and a doe.

“Okay, if you are not going to even look at me, I will have to return back to camp and tell Dutch to send someone else,” I almost shouted.  
“I don’t think so,” Sean snapped back. “What, are ya tryin’ to get me into trouble?”  
“You are the one who would be getting in trouble by yourself. Whatever did I do to you, Sean?”  
“Ya come waltzin’ into camp actin’ like you’re one of us when you’re really just some snobby rich lady.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You heard me.”

I kicked Maple’s side to make her speed up, but then stopped in front of Sean. He didn’t look angry; he only sounded angry. At the most he just looked annoyed.

“Contrary to popular belief, Sean, I am not my daddy’s money,” I told him. “Like I told Abigail and Dutch, I did not asked to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”  
“Don’t make a difference,” he replied.  
“Sean, I asked to be born into a rich family as much as you asked to be Irish. Tell me, right now, what you want me to do.”  
“What?”  
“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to go back to Arkansas? Because I will not.”  
“I don’t want ya to do anythin’ like that.”  
“You do not know me, Sean. You spoke to me that one time and that was it.”  
“Miss O’Shea--”  
“I know how Miss O’Shea acted and I am telling you that I am not Miss O’Shea! Did she go hunting?”  
“No.”  
“Then there’s a start. The least you could do is give me a chance to prove myself.”

Sean went around Maple and continued on down the trail to wherever it was we were meant to go to. I stayed quiet and followed him. We had both gotten somewhere but at the same time nowhere with our little “chat”, if that was what I could call it. It was another while before Sean even decided to speak.

“We’re going into town so you can pawn off some of that jewellery of yours,” he told me. “Givin’ us money to help is a start, I guess.”  
“I never would have allowed myself to come empty-handed,” I said.  
“Don’t get rid of all of it. Dutch said just enough to get a few hundred.”

We arrived at the nearest town and mounted up our horses. Sean was going to stay outside to keep watch while I went inside and pawned off some of the jewellery. The whole time I was in there I kept looking back at the gunsmith. Even when I received enough money from the jewellery out of the small case, I removed my earrings and my rings to get money for those, too. After that was done, Sean stayed waiting while I went into the gunsmith. At least he didn’t ask what I was doing.

I was only in the gunsmith’s for a moment or two before I heard gunshots outside. I could hear Maple panicking and Sean shouting at me that it was time to go. Of course, by the time I got back outside, it was too late to hop on our horses and leave. He had taken cover just so he wouldn’t get hit. I didn’t have time to be confused; from the shouting the other people were doing, I could only assume that, by their accents, they were the people Charles had warned me about.

From how well Sean was hidden, they were essentially shooting at nothing. Surely they realized he wasn’t alone? Their faces when I shot one of them suggested otherwise. It was quiet for long enough for Sean to peek out from behind the wall he was using as cover and motion for me to find my own. I had no idea why they looked as shocked as they did, but the moment that the shock was over they began shooting again. At least I was lucky enough that my father had taught me how to use a gun -- several, really. It felt natural, really.

There weren’t too many of them to begin with; Sean was fine with his shots given how low his visibility was. He’d gone and got himself stuck behind a wall that most likely didn’t give him enough of a visual range to see what he was shooting at. I poked my head out as often as I could to try and shoot what I could, too. At the most, I was probably just injuring them. I had to get over the slight feeling of being afraid and just do what I had to. I didn’t have time to contemplate what I wanted to do; I just had to get right into it.

I got up and started shooting at anyone who wasn’t Sean. Amidst their shouting, I could tell that they were still so confused. About what, exactly? I had no idea, but it was to mine and Sean’s benefit.

“Behind ya!” Sean shouted.

I didn’t have time to turn. I was pulled backward and into a choke hold, with the barrel of a gun pressed against my head. Without thinking about it, I brought my own gun up quickly and shot the man who had snuck up on me. He fell to the ground; I grimaced when I looked at him. I’d shot him from under his chin. That was gruesome, to say the least. Sean had managed to take out the remaining men that had been in the street, but when I looked at where he was hiding, he was being held in a choke hold of his own.

I took off across the street; the man who had Sean on the ground was pointing a gun between his eyes. I screamed just to get his attention on me rather than Sean. He looked up in shock, but didn’t have time to react before I tackled him backward. A gunshot deployed, but the second was mine. I’d shot him right through the throat. Now that it was quiet, I realized I was shaking from how scared I had been. It had been bound to happen sooner or later, but it really wasn’t something that was to be expected.

“Fuckin’ hell -- Jesus Christ,” Sean panted. “Ya saved me life.”  
“Are you okay?” I breathed.  
“I’m fine, but ya do realize you’ve been shot? Your shoulder.”

I looked down and sure enough, he was right. The shot that had been deployed before mine must have hit me. Why hadn’t I felt it? Was I in such a panicked state that I didn’t even realize I had been shot? In any case, I helped Sean to his feet.

“Fuckin’ O’Driscolls,” he muttered, looking around. “Burn in hell, why don’t ya?”  
“Did they seem confused to you?”  
“They sure as hell did. Never seen that before. You’ve got blood all over ya.”

I looked in the window that was behind me. There was blood on my uninjured shoulder, my neck, and part of my face from killing the man who had tried to kill me from behind. I let out a nervous laugh.

“Let’s head back; get that shoulder of yours looked at,” Sean suggested.

I nodded in agreement and headed over to where our horses were. Upon trying to get on top of Maple, a burning pain shot through my shoulder and my arm. There was the pain I should have felt when I’d been shot. It had been so sudden I stopped trying to hop on top.

“If ya can’t even get on, you won’t be able to ride back on your own,” Sean sighed.  
“I can do it,” I insisted.

Of course, when I tried again, the pain was even worse; it was so bad I ended up falling onto my back.

“No, ya can’t,” Sean retorted.

He got off his horse and helped me to my feet. Rather than helping me onto Maple, he helped me onto the back of his horse and then got back on.

“Make sure your horse follows,” he mentioned. “And hold on tight.”

Maple ran behind Sean’s horse; she had gotten so used to running in the snow, otherwise I figured she would lag behind quite a bit. It didn’t take long once we were in camp for anyone to realize that I had been shot and was covered in blood. Sean and I weren’t even off his horse.

“What the hell happened?” Dutch demanded as Sean got down.  
“Buncha fuckin’ O’Driscolls,” Sean replied, helping me off his horse. “Evie got shot, but she saved me life.”  
“Where did all the blood come from?”  
“An O’Driscoll she killed. She did good, Dutch.”  
“Here,” I mumbled, handing Dutch the money and the jewellery case.  
“This is the last thing you should be thinking of right now,” he scolded. “Miss Grimshaw, come help!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

“Did anyone see you when you went into town?” Dutch asked. “Other than the gunsmith and the pawn shop owner.”  
“That was, what, a week ago?” I replied, looking up from my needlepoint. “Why are you asking now?”  
“Hosea was in town earlier and heard that someone was looking for you.”

I didn’t recognize the gunsmith or pawn shop owner as anyone I knew. Had an O’Driscoll managed to get away and go back to wherever he came from? I thought that they were confused because they thought Sean had been alone. Maybe they had been confused for some other reason. In any case, I shook my head at Dutch.

“I will stay here,” I offered. “At least until whoever is asking for me goes away.”  
“That doesn’t need to happen,” he said. “If you stay away from the town, it should be fine.”  
“Okay.”  
“How’s that shoulder?”  
“It does not hurt anymore; I told you yesterday. I will eventually have to go back into town, though. My clothes are getting too tight for my liking.”

Before Dutch could answer, Arthur came by the tent. He was asking something about mining -- I didn’t understand a word of it. Most of the things they spoke about I didn’t understand. I figured that was best. It was probably just a bunch of things that would get me into trouble. All I knew was that there was a long scam going on.

“Hello, Arthur,” I piped up when they were finished.  
He turned to me and grumbled, “Hey...”

He wandered off, allowing me to return to my needlepoint, but returned not even a moment later. Dutch left to go walk around the camp, just to give us some privacy. Arthur hadn’t been in the camp when Sean had brought me back. He hadn’t seen the blood on my body and he hadn’t seen the hole in my shoulder while Miss Grimshaw tried to fix me up. The only thing he saw of the aftermath was the bullet hole in the shoulder of my coat and the patchwork Abigail did on the shoulder of the dress I had been wearing. The only thing he really knew about it was Sean talking about it around the campfire that night when he returned.

“You really helped Sean fight O’Driscolls?” Arthur asked.  
“I did.”  
“How the hell did you manage that?”  
“My daddy taught me how to shoot. I have lost count how many times I have had to explain that. If you are asking where I got the gun, I sold my earrings and my rings that I wore all the time to get the extra money for it and the bullets.”  
“So Sean treats you like crap and you _save_ his life?”  
“Should I have left him to die? He had his reasons to treat me that way. I am just glad he is talking to me now instead of ignoring me.” I sighed and looked up at him. “I am sorry for coming here. Believe me, there was no intention to try and be able to completely understand this life right away.”  
“Well,” He lit a cigarette, “you will sooner or later. If you’re already being shot at, that’s a start.”

Arthur left again, this time for good. It had been dark for quite a while already, but I was only just feeling the urge to wander around the camp. It wasn’t usual for me to do so; most of the time when I was in camp, I was with Abigail at her tent or I was at Dutch’s tent. I’d never sat around the campfire and the only other place I regularly went to was where Pearson butchered the meat. I hadn’t been outside the camp for nearly a week since Miss Grimshaw had given me what-for. Wanting to go out after being shot in the shoulder, at least for a woman in her mind, was something that she wouldn’t allow me to do. I couldn’t even get around it by asking Dutch if I could leave. No meant no and I had to rest up before even climbing back on top of Maple to leave.

I set my needlepoint back in my travelling trunk and went to wander around the camp. I avoided actually going through the camp itself, staying near the tree line. It wasn’t until I tried to scurry passed a tent to return to Dutch’s that I had to stop and hide behind the corner of it. The campfire was right there, and even though there was only one person there, I didn’t want to invisibly feel their eyes on me. I listened quietly. He was playing a guitar, from the sound of it.

“You can come listen. Or we can talk.”

I peeked around the corner nervously. What was his name? Javier? He jerked his head slightly as a way to tell me that I could sit if I wanted to. It took me a moment to actually saunter over and sit down. He continued to lightly strum the guitar strings while he spoke.

“Javier,” he mentioned.  
“Evie,” I replied quietly.  
“How’s the shoulder?”  
“It is fine. Erm...”  
“It isn’t awkward unless you make it awkward.”  
I blinked at him. “Beg your pardon?”  
“You’re rich, so I’m guessing you’ve never actually met a Mexican before.”  
“I-I-I--”  
“Don’t stress about it. Where are you from?”  
“Arkansas.”

Javier nodded and stopped strumming, and instead let out a sigh and rested his hands on top of his guitar.

“Hot place,” he said. “You know, Mexico is pretty hot, too. We’re both not built for the cold.”  
“It definitely takes some getting used to,” I agreed.  
“It’s not too bad right now. Could be a lot worse. You don’t have to hide out in Dutch’s tent all the time. We’re not going to eat you alive.”  
“Are you talking to me because I helped Sean or because you really want to talk to me? Forgive my skepticism.”  
“If you would have come out of that tent when you got here, I would have talked to you. Thanks for giving up your stew, by the way.”

He was only now just thanking me for telling Dutch to give the stew to someone else? I nodded at him and bit the inside of my cheek. Javier seemed nice enough. I’d never really noticed him around the camp since he was usually outside doing whatever it was that he did. The ones who were usually in the camp were the women, Jack, Pearson, and sometimes Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur.

“I also would have come to the tent to talk to you, but you looked scared when you first got here,” Javier mentioned. “I’m sure it didn’t help with everyone else ignoring you. The last thing you needed was somebody you didn’t know coming into your tent. You needed your space.”  
“You do not care if I am rich?” I asked.  
“We’re all here for different reasons. How long are you now?”  
“Miss Grimshaw and Abigail suspect it’s almost three months. Javier, when I first got here...”  
“No, I didn’t think you were a prostitute. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here instead of just being pregnant?”  
***

“You need to start staying back at camp,” Charles said.  
“I got up onto Maple just fine,” I replied.

We were back out hunting, looking for a spot other than the usual clearing we went to. The animals never seemed to learn to stay away from there still, but we figured we could get something a bit better than a doe or a buck. For once, Pearson came to me and asked me to go hunting. Well, it wasn’t exactly asking -- it was more of a demand. At least he was coming around to the fact that I could hunt.

“It’s not because of your horse,” Charles told me. “There are O’Driscolls around and--”  
“Charles,” I interrupted.

We had been looking at each other, but there were horses approaching from behind him. I saw them first and had to warn him about them. Charles looked in the direction I was looking and stopped his horse, and grabbed hold of Maple’s reins to stop her from moving. He must have figured it was more dangerous to just take off running rather than just stay where we were and defuse the situation, whatever the situation was. It was obvious who these people were.

“Well, if it ain’t Van der Linde’s newest members,” the man in front said. “Shouldn’t you be tucked away inside the camp, little girl?”  
“She can probably hunt better than any of you can,” Charles shot back before I could say anything.  
“Probably.” The man shrugged. “But word is...you and that annoying red-haired brat shot up a bunch of us. Colm ain’t too happy about that.”  
“They shot at us first,” I retorted. “It was not my fault they hesitated.”  
“Yeah, we heard about that. Lucky for us, not you, that one of us got away.”

Charles and I glanced at each other. Whoever had run off must have done so while both Sean and I were in cover. When I thought back on it, I heard a man shouting that he was heading back to where they were set up. I thought that there was a possibility that could have happened, but it had been so quiet for two weeks that I came to the conclusion nothing had happened. Then again, those two weeks were spent inside the camp doing nothing but needlepoint and Dutch trying to get me to eat.

“_She_ almost got killed because of you,” the man said to me.  
“Who did?” Charles asked.  
“There really is no mistaking it. No way she could have been in two places at once. See, while you were shootin’ up our boys, she was back at camp skinning a deer.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this shit... Bonnie! It’s definitely her!”

Charles looked confused -- that is, until a woman came to the front of the group. There really was no mistaking the situation. I was the spitting image of this woman, just younger. She had the same hair as me, same freckles, same eyes... This woman must have spent her time mostly in her camp or elsewhere; if anyone in our camp had seen her out and about, they would have told Dutch, especially after I turned up. I felt like I was going to vomit, and not from being pregnant and not from having eaten.

“Mama?” I mumbled.  
“Tessa, what are you doing out here?” she asked.  
“Evie, we need to go,” Charles said.  
“Easy there, friend,” the man said, pulling out his pistol and pointing it at Charles.  
“I would ask you to put that away,” I snapped.

Charles and I were stuck. If he went back to camp to get help, I could easily be taken. Even with my gun, there was no safe way out of this situation. Bonnie, my mother, was making no moves to even let me go. When I thought of reuniting with her, it wasn’t at all like this. No guns. No murderous intent. No gang members of hers around. I never expected to reunite with her when I was in a gang, either. She didn’t...feel like my mother or sound like my mother. If anything, she was the shell of my mother with someone else living inside of her. I knew she wasn’t the same doting mother I had come to love when I was a child.

“So,” she said, leaning forward on her horse, “are you gonna answer my question?”  
“_Don’t,_” Charles demanded.  
“I cannot tell you,” I huffed.  
“You were never a fat child, Tessa,” Bonnie mentioned. “Call it mother’s intuition or whatever, but that’s not your natural fat. So did I leave just so you would turn into a prostitute or what?”  
“For the hundredth time, I am not a prostitute!”  
“What kind of mother leaves her child behind?” Charles asked.  
Bonnie looked at him, frowning. “You’re not the father, are you?”  
“So what if I am? Evie is grown up; she can make her own choices. Not like you were there to help influence them.”  
“Watch your mouth, you ni--”  
“_Mama!_” I shouted.

I couldn’t believe the things that were coming out of Bonnie’s mouth. She wasn’t the same person and her words only confirmed it. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or scream at her, or both. It had been twenty years since we saw each other. Was this really how she had always been? Had her caring nature just been a façade? The woman who I had loved and adored had been a figment of imagination -- she wasn’t real to begin with. It must have been so painful and frustrating for her to pretend to be someone she was not. My father must have thought he could change her. They had fallen in love, of course. But love could only do so much.

“How’s Cornelius?” Bonnie wondered.  
“Panicking, I suppose,” I replied. “I’ve not seen him for a while.”  
“Well, you shouldn’t be out here. Everyone knows not to shoot you now,” She pulled on the reins of her horse, “but if you ever wanna run with a real crowd come find me.”

She and the men she had come with took off. It took them turning around the corner for me to stop shaking. I had believed that something worse would have happened. Charles let Maple’s reins go with a sigh. My mother was running with the enemy. I thought that she would be long gone, further away from Arkansas than this. Perhaps she had been -- Javier had told me there seemed to be O’Driscolls everywhere. Wherever the gang went, there were O’Driscolls. I had to wonder if Bonnie had willingly come down so close to Arkansas or if she had to be coerced.

“We should head back to camp,” Charles suggested. “Someone else can go hunting. We need to tell Dutch what just happened.”  
“Mm...” I mumbled.  
“You okay?”

I shook my head. Even if I still thought we should go hunting, Charles was right. Dutch needed to know what was going on; it wasn’t something we could keep a secret from him. The truth would come out eventually and it was better to just tell him now as opposed to being confronted about it at a later time. Charles and I rode back to camp, but just before going in I stopped, which made him stop.

“What is it?” he asked.  
“Dutch knows my real name,” I told him. “Now so do you.”  
“I won’t tell anyone.”

We continued on into the camp. Pearson wasn’t too happy about how we returned with nothing, but he looked at me and mentioned that it looked like I was going to vomit.

“There a thing called horse sick?” he wondered.  
“What?” Dutch said when he came over to us. “What happened?”  
“We ran into some O’Driscolls,” Charles told him. “And...well...”  
“Mama is with them,” I said quietly.  
“Shit,” Dutch muttered.  
“I think I’m...ready to learn how to darn now.”

Dutch walked with me back to his tent. Everything felt so surreal, almost like my whole life had changed. Well, it technically had. Maybe I was holding onto the mother I remembered, but didn’t quite know. Bonnie had shattered that image. Who did I take after completely then? I looked like Bonnie, but I spoke like my... I spoke like Cornelius. Maybe he had been even more strict about not allowing me to join Dutch because he thought, or knew, that someway, somehow, I would run into Bonnie and my image of her would be broken. I thought back on mine and Bonnie’s “confrontation” and her voice had been dripping with malice. No one around was inherently a _good_ person, but the worst voice had to be that Micah’s was usually dripping with sarcasm.

“Just breathe,” Dutch told me when I grasped onto the locket around my neck.

I pulled the locket and broke the clasp around my neck. There was no reason for me to keep it anymore. The words inside and the photo didn’t mean anything anymore. It was just trickery, and it wasn’t the type of trickery I wanted. It felt like my heart was broken. How horrible was it, to have my heart broken by my own mother? She had initially sounded concerned about me, asking why I was out on the trail. But it was all a lie.

“Take this,” I sniffled, handing Dutch the locket. “Do what you want with it -- sell it, destroy it, throw it in a lake come spring. I don’t care.”  
“Are you sure?” he asked.  
“Yes. Yes, I am sure.”  
He opened the locket. “What about this, then?”

I looked up at him and saw that he had taken the photo out. I grabbed it from him and stormed over to where the campfire was. Without a second thought, I tossed it into the fire. It didn’t matter. As far as anyone was concerned, I’d thrown out just a scrap of paper. What was the point in keeping something that was a prop in a story of lies? I returned to the tent and sat on the edge of the cot.

“She thought I was a prostitute, too,” I mentioned.  
“Stop thinking about it,” Dutch said. “And stop thinking about her.”  
“Dutch...it’s been twenty years since she left me. Twenty years of a memory of someone who was not real.”  
“You aren’t thinking about joining her, are you?”  
“No! Is my loyalty that questionable?”  
Dutch sat on the cot next to me. “You did tell me that you wanted to find her.”  
“The mother I wanted to find does not exist, Dutch. Even if she did exist, why would I run off to _them_? I have this baby to think about, don’t I? I would not go to them even if it meant it would keep me from dying.”  
“I trust your loyalty.”  
“Good. Now can I go ask Miss Grimshaw to teach me how to darn?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> (Please?)

“Excuse me, Dutch?” I mumbled, grabbing Dutch’s arm as he passed by the tent.  
“Something the matter?” he asked.  
“No, no. It is just...we have not sat and spoken about the baby.”  
“You wanna talk about it? Thought you were keeping it.”  
“I intend to. Please, can we sit? If you’re not busy...”

Luckily, Dutch led me over to the cot and sat with me. At this point, I was only about four and a half months long. There wasn’t a rush to actually talk about it, but we only ever seemed to talk about what was going on inside the camp. He’d been outside the camp with Hosea a lot and so there wasn’t a lot of time to actually sit anymore. With Abigail, Sean, Charles, and Javier actually talking to me regularly I didn’t get lonely. Well, Sean didn’t speak to me as regularly as the others did and once he started talking he didn’t stop. Not like I minded it, but it was almost difficult for me to get a single word in.

“What’s on your mind about it?” Dutch said.  
“It is not something that can be controlled, but what is it that you want?” I wondered.  
“I’m hoping for a son, but if it comes out a girl there’s not much we can do about it.”  
“In any case, Dutch, we should...maybe...start thinking about names? I have always liked Alice for a girl.”  
“Good one. I’ve never thought about it. Rich folks usually name their kids after their grandparents, don’t they?”  
“When I was younger, I would think about naming a boy after Daddy, but...”  
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting my kid walk around with a name as ridiculous as ‘Cornelius’.” He let out what sounded like an annoyed sigh. “Jesse.”  
“Jesse is nice. Dutch, I know that you have a lot of...work to be done, but are you happy about it? Or excited?”  
“Of course I am. It’s been four years since we had a baby around here. Quite a lot of attention we’ll be taking away from Jack.”  
“Should... Should I apologize to him?”  
“Evie, I’m joking. He’s excited, too.”

Dutch pat my shoulder and then left the tent to let me return to darning socks. I didn’t know how much more darning I could handle. Or dishes. Or cleaning clothes. I hated cleaning clothes the most. Half the time I didn’t know what the stains even came from, but I did my best to keep them as far from my nose as possible. I made the mistake of loosening my elbows once and almost had to vomit because of how bad the smell was. The sickness from eating or even smelling stew had lessened, too, so I looked forward to not really vomiting anymore. But some of the clothes were just so bad. The worst part about staying in camp all the time was the conversations I inevitably would hear.

“Why the hell would Dutch bring a woman that’s not fuckable?” Micah asked.  
“What?” Charles replied.  
“You know what I’m talkin’ about.”  
“No. No, I don’t.”  
“You can’t fuck a lady who’s got a baby in her. I mean, you could, but you’d gotta be a real freak.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Whoa, there, are you one of those freaks?”  
“You’re hopeless.”  
“Naw, what’s hopeless is that there’s a lady that looks like Evie and she ain’t even available!”

The way Micah spoke about things was very...odd, to say the least. I tried to get used to hearing the things that came out of his mouth, but just when I thought he could no longer surprise me when he said stuff like _that_. No matter who told him to stop talking like that -- me, Dutch, Hosea, Charles, even Arthur -- he still spoke like that. I learned that he had no respect for anybody. There was loyalty to Dutch, _maybe_ respect, but not much else. It wasn’t to say that no one else made comments along those lines, but Micah’s was really the worst. Sean regularly drank and a lot of the time if he caught me out of the tent he would drone on and on about how I was pretty. There was a big difference between Sean’s drunken droning and Micah’s disgusting words.

“Age clearly ain’t a problem for her,” Micah muttered.  
“Keeping your mouth shut is a problem for you,” Charles retorted.  
“Miss Grimshaw?” I called, wandering out of the tent. “Miss Grimshaw!”  
“What is it?” Susan replied. “Everything alright with the baby?”  
“Yes, ma’am. I was just wondering if it would be okay to take Maple out for a short ride? She looks like she is becoming a bit, well...irritable.”

I was using Maple as an excuse just so I could get out of the camp for a few moments to myself. Susan looked at the pile of darned socks I was holding in my arms and shrugged.

“We can send someone else with her, can’t we?” she asked.  
“W-Well...you can try...” I stammered. “No one else has ridden her before... I would hate to see anyone get thrown, Miss Grimshaw.”  
“Alright, _fine_.” She took the pile from me. “But only thirty minutes.”  
“See you soon.”

I sauntered over to Maple and climbed on top of her. I’d managed to take her out once before with the help of Dutch, but he’d taken off already this time. The conversation I had overheard just made me want to leave and if I had to argue with Susan to leave I would have. Maybe there was some special privileges I held that I didn’t know of just because I was pregnant and with Dutch, but for the most part she treated me the same as she treated Karen or Mary Beth. Though, there wasn’t any screaming or slaps.

I took Maple over to the clearing I had taken her to the last time. It was small and quiet and far enough from camp that I had some peace and quiet. But it was close enough that I could get back to camp if I needed to head back quickly. In truth, Maple wasn’t irritable at all from being in camp. She liked being around the other horses and it seemed she got comfortable with Jack playing near her. What _did_ make her irritable in camp was Micah and Bill -- one enjoyed antagonizing her and the other was just loud and angry sometimes too close to her. She had been close to kicking Micah again, but he managed to jump out of the way. A horse’s kick could kill someone. I was happy she wasn’t killing anyone, of course. Though, sometimes I wished she had kicked some sense into my father.

I’d thought about sending a letter to my father, to at least let him know that I was okay. I knew I was allowed to send letters if I wanted to, but I was reminded that it would give my father an idea of the general area I was in. It was next to impossible to actually send a letter in that case and I wasn’t going to bring that onto myself. My father would surely panic and leave home immediately to come find me. The slight panic I had felt when it was found out people in town were asking for me was unnecessary. It was discovered they had been searching for Bonnie. She was a heavily wanted woman, apparently. Once that was out of the way, I was able to go back into town if I wanted to. I had done so once with Hosea and even though people asked me who I was, it became clear that I was younger and, therefore, not Bonnie. If I was going to head into town, though, I would have to bring someone else with me just in case the townsfolk didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t my mother.

I hadn’t seen Bonnie since the day Charles and I came across her and the O’Driscoll men on the trail. She was excitable from the rumours I heard of her, able to sneak into houses without making a sound, kill people before they even noticed she was there, hunt like she was a cougar herself, and escape the law quicker than they could pull a gun on her. She sounded horrifying, but like something out of the tales of old gunslingers. If she weren’t my mother and hadn’t abandoned me, I probably would have looked up to her for different reasons than I had growing up. Dutch and everyone else had heard of her, but had never seen her, meaning that she was able to keep herself hidden if she wanted to. But now they knew that not only was she lethal, but she ran with Colm O’Driscoll and looked like me -- just a bit older looking.

“Okay, girl, let’s head back,” I murmured, patting Maple’s side.

Something was bothering her, though. I looked at the ground carefully -- there was nothing she could have stepped on, right? Perhaps a rock had gotten lodged onto her hoof again. I hopped off her back to check all of them. Like I had thought, nothing was there. The bears were hibernating, so there was no chance for them to be spooking her. Either way, I looked at the treeline. There was nothing that I could see. Instead of getting back onto Maple, I grabbed her reins and began leading her back to camp on foot.

That’s when I felt a pinch in my neck, followed by an immediate sensation that I had to vomit. I let Maple go and quickly pulled what was stuck on my neck off. It looked like a dart of some sort. I felt exhausted beyond measure, and then my vision began to blur. I knew I was in danger and had to leave, but I had absolutely no strength to try and climb back up onto Maple. As I was reaching for my gun, whoever had shot me became impatient, and chose to sneak up behind me and hit me on the head.

It all seemed like a few seconds between absolute darkness and then waking up. I groggily looked around at where I was. It looked like a rundown cabin: the windows were boarded up -- only a small bit of sunlight was coming through the cracks -- and the fireplace looked unusable, and the only furniture inside the place was the chair I was tied to, a kitchen table, and a side table. My head hurt, thus reminding me that someone had hit me when I didn’t go down immediately from being tranquilized. I tried getting out of the rope, but it was no use. I was tied so tight that if I moved the rope would cut into my skin through my clothes. I flinched when the door opened and the sun came through.

“Well, well, look who’s awake,” the man standing in the doorway said. “You really are a spitting image of Bonnie.”  
“If my father hired you--” I began.  
“No. From how Bonnie speaks about dear old Daddy, he wouldn’t trust someone like me to handle bringing his kid back to him.”  
“You know Mama?”  
“She works for me.”  
I shook my head, still slightly groggy. “What do you want...erm...Colm?”  
“The word goin’ around is that you’re running with Dutch van der Linde, and it’s _not_ just ’cause you’re on the run.”

I stayed quiet. Bonnie and the men she had been with must have told him I was with child. Whatever else they told him, I didn’t know. Colm’s men could have been around in town and I wouldn’t have even known, and they could have overheard any conversations I had. No, I wasn’t on the run from the law; I was on the run from Declan and Cornelius, and perhaps even Father O’Malley.

“S-So?” I stuttered.  
“Dutch has always had a...soft spot, I guess, for the ladies,” Colm explained. “There was Annabel and then -- what was her name? -- Molly, and now there’s you. Oh, and I can’t forget to mention the prostitutes.”

I hadn’t been told about Annabel. If something bad happened, then I could understand. The only thing I really expected from Dutch was to just _be there_ for the baby. I didn’t expect him to tell me anything he didn’t want to tell me. Telling me things he didn’t want to tell me didn’t mean he was lying, exactly. But if he lied to me, then that had to have a good reason, too, right?

“That does not mean anything,” I said.  
“One of them lives in the camp,” Colm continued. “Or was it two? I can _never_ remember.”

He remembered; clearly he did. He was just trying to toy with my emotions. I would have been lying if I had said it wasn’t working. I was scared and now I was...jealous. But I couldn’t afford to be jealous. I had to get out of this situation and go back. The other’s who still doubted me, even a little, would think I had fled back to Cornelius, or perhaps willingly gone to Colm just so I could be with Bonnie.

“Where is Mama?” I asked.  
“She’s gone off to see dear old Daddy,” he admitted.  
“No. _No_.”  
“I don’t think she’s gone to kill him. Even when you’re out here, you’re still Daddy’s princess, ain’t you?”  
“I am not a princess!”  
“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you’re just a rich girl who wants to play pretend for a while.” Colm rolled his eyes. “Like I said, Dutch likes the ladies. Never expected him to get one pregnant.”  
“If it is Dutch you have problems with, then why take me?”  
“Maybe I just wanna play around with his new toy.”

I held my breath. What did he mean “toy”?

“Wait.” Colm chuckled. “You ain’t actually thinkin’ he loves you, do you? Sure, he loves the ladies, and he loves ’em young like you. You think he’s over Annabel?”  
“Daddy still isn’t over Mama,” I shot back. “If Dutch is not over Annabel, then it may be for a good reason.”  
“Stop talkin’ all high and mighty. If he don’t love you, why should you love him back? _If_ you even love him back.”  
“If--If he didn’t at least like me, he would not have asked me here.”  
“He probably just wants the kid. Well, why don’t I give him what he wants?”

_ **Back in Camp/3rd Person POV** _

Charles led Maple into the camp to hitch her up. Susan was asking anyone if they had seen Evie, Abigail appeared to be worried, and Dutch was suspicious. It had been nearly five hours since anyone in camp had seen or heard from her. No one knew where she was.

“I knew it,” Micah said loudly. “I knew the second shit got annoying for her she’d run off back to her daddy.”  
“I found her horse, abandoned,” Charles announced. “Evie would never leave her behind. There was blood on the snow and her gun was almost buried; looked like maybe she was attacked.”  
“Who’d wanna attack her, huh?” Sean asked. “Lonely lady out there on her own.”  
“Who the hell do you think?” Dutch snapped.  
“Colm’s got Evie?” Arthur nearly shouted.  
“Somebody find her, for Christ’s sake!” Susan demanded.  
“I’m tellin’ you, right now, she ain’t around!” Micah insisted.  
“Shut your mouth!” Arthur snapped. “If Colm’s really got her, she’s in serious trouble!”  
“She’s one of us now,” Abigail said. “Right, Dutch?”  
“Right,” Dutch replied. “Charles, Sean, go see if you can find her! Now!”

Hosea rode back into camp, quicker than usual. Tied to his saddle behind him was a sack.

“Found this in the middle of the trail as I was coming up,” he said, walking over with it. “Not sure what it is but it’s got your name on it, Dutch.”  
“I’ve got a faint idea what it is,” Dutch admitted.  
“Jesus Christ!” Sean exclaimed once the sack was opened.  
“We need to find Evie,” Charles said angrily. “Now, Sean!”  
“Yeah, just, uh... I’m gonna be sick...”  
“Be sick later, you fool!”

_ **Back at the Cabin/Evie POV** _  
_ **Three days later** _

Three days later and I was still a sobbing mess. Why had things turned out this way? I should have just stayed in camp and dealt with Micah’s ranting. Listening to that was much better and easier to deal with. I’d been burned and poked in the cabin and that wasn’t even the worst of it. During the first night, I had men come in to tell me to stop my wailing because people were trying to sleep. This only made me scream as loud as I could. I was angry. I was scared. I didn’t care that Colm’s men were trying to sleep. They had to gag me to shut me up. Now, Colm came in with Bonnie trailing behind him.

“I’ll take it off if you stop your screamin’,” he said.

I glared at him before averting my gaze to Bonnie.

“I’ll do it,” she offered. “We need to have a little mother-daughter talk.”  
“Whatever, but I’m stayin’ right here.”

Bonnie stood in front of me, dragging a stool behind her that had come from outside. She removed my gag and sat down while Colm stood just by the door. I kept my mouth shut; there was no point in screaming again, at least not yet.

“Ain’t your tears dried up yet?” Bonnie asked.  
“No,” I sobbed.  
“Get over it. You wanted a taste of this life and you got it.”  
“No, I did not!”  
“Watch your mouth.”  
“I wanted to be free and I wanted adventure. What Colm did to me is not what I wanted!”  
She slapped me across my face. “I said, watch your mouth.”

Bonnie really was the complete opposite of what I thought she was when I was a child. What was wrong with me? I wanted what she really was to be a complete lie. I wanted the fake mother I looked up to back. She didn’t care that I was angry and scared; she didn’t care that I was in pain.

“Cornelius is mighty disappointed in you,” Bonnie admitted.  
“If you hurt Daddy, I swear--” I started.  
“Watch it. I just dropped by the house to see him and have a little chat. He’s fine. I didn’t hurt him. I loved him but I didn’t love that life.”  
“You didn’t love me, either.”  
“I tried, but I couldn’t. You represented what I hated most, and I know you hate it, too. Where’s the locket, Tessa?”  
“I do not know. I gave it away to someone so they could do what they liked with it. Why would I keep something from someone who did not love me?”

Bonnie quickly stood, knocking the stool over, as she smacked me harder. She ended up drawing blood. I thought crying or making any sounds would make her hit me again, and so I cowered away best I could.

“You’re ungrateful, aren’t you?” she shouted. “I left you so you could live a good life! You just threw it away! For what? For ‘freedom’? Don’t be stupid. I know about Father O’Malley’s grandson.”  
I spat blood at her. “I...refuse to live that kind of life. I had a baby to think about! And you...you took it away from me! You and those men couldn’t keep your pathetic mouths shut, could you?! Only monsters would do what you did! Dutch and Hosea and Micah and all of them might be bad men and women, but they’re better than whatever you people are! You’re trash and you always will be!”  
“You want trash?” She turned and began walking out. “I’ll show you trash. Men have needs, Tessa. And there’s plenty of men here.”

_ **Somewhere in the Wilderness/Third Person POV** _

“It’s been three days,” Sean muttered, holding his hands out above the fire.  
“She has to be out here somewhere,” Charles replied as he looked at the treeline.  
“I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that before. Never wanna see it again. Do ya think she’s alright?”  
“If _you_ were gonna _vomit_, how do you think she felt?”  
“Stupid question; sorry.” Sean sighed. “We were all so mean to her.”  
“Not all of us.”  
“It prob’ly felt like all of us. All because she’s a rich lady. Should’ve treated her better.”  
“All of you that treated her badly don’t understand what she was gonna go through if she didn't show up here. It ain’t like she came empty-handed, either. It shouldn’t have taken her saving your life for you to talk to her, y’know.”

Charles turned to the campfire and folded his arms across his chest. The sun was already down and they both had been getting up early to search for Evie. Even if Sean complained about the cold and wondered if she really ran off or not, he wanted to find her just as much as Charles did. Dutch, Susan, and Hosea wouldn’t accept them returning to camp without Evie, dead or alive.

“Fuck,” Sean muttered. “This is fuckin’ shit. Who do ya think told that Irish bastard that she was with child, eh?”  
“That mother of hers.”  
“That fuckin’ O’Driscoll bitch.”  
"You're Irish, too."  
"Shut the hell up! I ain't like him!"

_ **Back at the Cabin/Evie POV** _  
_ **Eight days later** _

I wanted to be numb to the pain. I wanted to stop crying. I wanted to stop screaming. I wanted to hit and throw things. I’d take a thousand boring lifetimes if it meant I could escape the one I was already living. I would take eternity in the deepest pits of hell just to forget what was happening. I could scream and wail all I wanted and they didn’t care. The only time they didn’t have to hear me was at night when they gagged me to be quiet, otherwise I would keep everyone up all night or just annoy everyone. I wasn’t allowed much sleep, either; probably only a couple hours a night and I was always awakened rudely.

“It’s a lucky day for you,” Colm announced, walking into the cabin and removing my gag.

I screamed as loud as I could at him; so loud and so intense that my throat felt like it was going to be ripped out if I continued to do it. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest already; why not let my throat join it in misery?

“Shut up, princess,” Colm sneered.  
“I...am not...a princess...” I panted, my voice hoarse.  
He pat my cheek with a sigh. “Anyway, you’re lucky ’cause me and the men are heading out to the new place Bonnie found for us. It’ll take a while for everyone to be out of here, so...I don’t know what’ll happen once I’m gone.”  
“Y...You’re not...letting me go?”  
“Sorta. Someone will find you here sooner or later. It might be sooner. It might be later.” He shrugged and turned around. “If they find you sooner, remember to give my regards to Dutch. Scream, if you think it’ll help.”

I struggled against the chair and my restraints. Everyone who always tied me back up did such tight and intricate knots that it was impossible to struggle even the slightest bit. I started sobbing once more. I didn’t want to die, especially not in the middle of nowhere. There was no way for me to escape on my own; even my feed were bound together.

It wasn’t long after Colm left the cabin that I heard horses riding out from wherever we were. A man I didn’t recognized wandered over to the cabin and looked around before stepping in and shutting the door.

“Don’t you touch me,” I breathed in a hostile tone. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on me--”  
“N-No, of course not,” he replied. “I-I-I wouldn’t dream of it.”  
“I haven’t seen your face before...”  
“I’m kinda new and I take care of the horses.”  
“If you’re not here to do what everyone else does, what do you want?”

The man had been carrying a canteen and held it out to me. What did he expect for me to do? _Take it_? I looked at the canteen and then back at him.

“I’m just...offerin’ you some water,” he assured me.  
“You don’t need my permission to come stand by me. Just don’t touch me.”  
“Ok-Okay.”

He opened the canteen and carefully held it up to my lips. It burned from all the screaming and crying I had done, but it was so relieving at the same time. When I stopped drinking, he waited a moment before screwing the lid back on.

“What would they do...if you untied me?” I asked, swallowing hard.  
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I-I’ve only been here a couple weeks. They might kill me, I reckon. But...”  
“Don’t do it, then.”  
“I didn’t want no part of this, ma’am.”  
“Evie.”  
“Beg your pardon?”  
“My name...is Evie.”  
“I thought it was Te--”  
“Don’t. Don’t say it. Please. Don’t untie me. There is no reason for you to get killed because of me.”  
“But--”

Just then, someone shouted for him.

“Kieran! Get your ass out here! We’re leavin’! Now!” they shouted.  
“Go,” I told him when he looked at me. “Please go.”

He hesitated to leave, but once he was outside the man who had shouted at him checked to make sure I was still tied up everywhere. Then he left, shutting the door behind him, and I was left alone, in the cold, in the middle of nowhere, in an abandoned cabin. For once in the eleven days since I’d been there, it was quiet. It just made me even more scared. I held my breath and listened for anything that made a sound -- a bird flapping its wings, a tree branch breaking, hooves on the ground... Anything. I jumped when I heard a snap. Something had stepped on what sounded like a stick.

It wasn’t a few seconds later that the door slowly opened back up. I held my breath, thinking that perhaps it was an O’Driscoll who had circled back. But no. I gasped with relief when I saw it was just Sean and Charles; both of them looked exhausted and angry. When they saw me, though, the anger changed to relief, and I began sobbing again.

“Sean, help me cut the rope,” Charles demanded.

The ropes were quickly disposed of. Before I could do anything, Sean went outside and looked around. He whistled for the horses while I held onto Charles.

“Th-The...” I struggled to speak. “The baby...”  
“We know,” he replied quietly. “You’re safe now.”  
“Sorry we took so long,” Sean said, still keeping a look out at the door. “Those fuckin’ O’Driscoll bastards covered up their tracks real fuckin’ good. Fuckin’ arseholes. Every last one of ’em.”  
“Th-There was one--” I began. “Never mind...”  
“Let’s get you home,” Charles said, pulling away.  
“Maple...”  
“She’s waitin’ for ya at camp,” Sean told me.

Sean got up on his horse and helped me get on behind him. He waited for Charles to mount up, and we headed back in the direction of camp. I hadn’t realized just how far I had been taken. It was late afternoon just when we were approaching the clearing I had been taken from.

“H-How did you two find me?” I sniffled.  
“Heard ya screamin’,” Sean admitted. “Quite far, too. Good lungs ya got there, Evie.”  
“I’m...I’m sorry that I got taken.”  
“Don’t say that,” Charles scolded. “Weren’t you attacked from behind?”  
“Well, yes, but--”  
“Then don’t blame yourself. Everything that did happen at the cabin that we know about and what happened that we don’t know about, it ain’t your fault.”

I held onto Sean tighter as we approached camp. Javier was keeping watch and started shouting that we were coming in. Susan and Abigail were the first two to approach me once I climbed off the back of Sean’s horse.

“Dear Lord, are you alright?” Susan asked, pulling me into a tight hug.  
“We were worried sick!” Abigail said.  
“Miss Grimshaw...” I said quietly, causing her to push me away slightly so she could look at me, “I think I would...prefer to stay in camp for a long time...”  
“I think we would all prefer that, too.”  
“Those goddamn O’Driscolls,” Arthur muttered.  
“Hosea and Dutch are gonna be back soon,” Javier mentioned, having ran into the camp after us.  
“I ain’t ever lettin’ you leave my sight,” Karen promised.  
“Me, either,” Tilly agreed.  
“I do not think that is--” I began.  
“Don’t say ‘no’ to that,” Mary Beth said. “You’re part of the family, and we gotta protect each other. Right?”

Anyone who was near us agreed with her. They really thought I was part of their family now? I should have been angry that being kidnapped was what it took for almost everyone to accept me, but I couldn’t be. I had caused everyone so much worry and panic that it resulted in whatever this was. I wanted to cry again, but for once in eight days I was finally all cried out. Instead, the other girls and I hugged.

“Dutch!” Abigail shouted as Hosea and Dutch came into camp. “Evie is back!”  
“Oh, Jesus.”

Dutch barely hitched The Count up before rushing over and hugging me. I hugged him back, tightly. If Charles and Sean knew what had happened with the baby, then Dutch knew, too. So badly I wanted to apologize, but he would just refuse it. I was just relieved to be back in camp where I was safe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_

Micah came over to Dutch’s tent and groaned when he realized the front and back flaps were still closed. It had been a week since I had been back. It was Susan who suggested keeping the flaps shut during the day. I barely ever left the tent. The exhaustion from not sleeping very well at the cabin caught up with me and the sadness that I felt from the baby was too much. It felt like a chore just to sit up.

“Get the hell away from the tent!” Susan shouted at Micah.  
“What is she doin’, anyway?” he snapped back.  
“It don’t matter!”  
“What, the _princess_ needs to be alone?”

I got up from the cot and looked through my travelling trunk. It was strange looking at the dresses I could fit back into. Still, I folded it beneath my arm along with underthings and walked out the back of the tent to avoid Micah. I wandered over to the campfire where Charles was sitting.

“Afternoon, Evie,” he said.  
“Hi...” I mumbled. “Um...will you come into town with me?”  
“Sure. Let’s go.”  
“You are not going to ask why?”  
He stood up with a sigh. “Does it matter? Miss Grimshaw, I’m taking Evie into town.”

Charles went and mounted his horse, waiting for me to place my things into the saddlebag and get on top of Maple. No one asked what happened at the cabin. I didn’t know if they were waiting for me to “get better” or if they thought it was better to just leave it alone. From what they knew, I had gone through something terrible. There were other things I went through that they didn’t know about and I wasn’t ready, or willing, to open up to anybody. I wasn’t even willing to let Dutch touch me. He’d tried once but I had ended up smacking his hand away. It wasn’t a normal response from me. I didn’t know if he understood or not why I did such a thing, but he didn’t try again.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“I said, are you okay? Not even Dutch knows what happened to you.”  
“Charles, I...really do not know.”  
“If you wanna tell me ever, I ain’t gonna tell him. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

I didn’t answer him. Eventually I was going to have to tell someone what had happened. I just didn’t know who I was going to want to tell. I trusted Charles, though I didn’t know if it was the right thing to talk to him about. I thought maybe perhaps Susan or Abigail would understand better, but every time I looked at Abigail I couldn’t help but feel jealousy swell up inside me. She had Jack with John and she was with John, but still. Colm had said many things to mess with my head, and much of it had really gotten to me.

Charles and I hitched our horses up, and then walked into the hotel. I just needed to bathe. That was it. Or at least that was what I told myself. From the look on Charles’ face, I could tell that when I asked him to come into town with me he hadn’t expected for him to just stand outside the door and keep watch. But I also knew that if I hadn’t asked anyone to come with me, Susan would have said “no”. Charles was the closest person near me that I could ask without having to walk by Micah. I was sure he had better things to do than stand by the door.

I was in the bath for such a long time that at one point Charles had to knock on the door to make sure I was still okay. Once he had confirmation that I was fine, it went back to being quiet. It wasn’t loud in camp, exactly, but I constantly heard people talking and whispering to each other. For nearly two weeks, even at night, I had only been surrounded by loud sounds and loud voices. I needed quiet, at least just for a little while. I only decided to get out when the water began to get too cold for comfort.

“Sorry,” I said quietly. “For making you wait so long, I mean.”  
“Don’t be,” Charles replied. “Are you ready to head back?”

I wasn’t ready to head back. I still felt the need to bathe. There was the feeling inside of me that something still didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right and I didn’t know why. Taking baths when I still lived at home always made me feel better, even if it was only slight. But the feeling I had didn’t alleviate at all. I wanted to go back to camp, but I wasn’t ready to; not in the slightest.

“I need another one,” I admitted.  
“Another bath?” Charles sighed. “Evie, you just had one.”  
“I know, but... I still feel...”

I stopped talking. Charles wanted to leave, too, even if he didn’t say anything about it. Was there any use arguing staying for just a few more hours?

“You still feel what?” Charles asked.  
“Nothing...”  
“Ev--”  
“Let’s just go, okay?”

Charles didn’t argue with me, but he didn’t completely leave it alone. He kept looking at me while we rode back to camp and kept asking if I was sure I was okay to return. I remained silent with him; what was I supposed to say, exactly? If I couldn’t talk to Dutch, how was I supposed to talk to anyone else? Upon arriving back at camp, I didn’t immediately hitch Maple back up. I didn’t even got off of her.

“Dutch!” Charles called.

Dutch came out of the tent when Charles approached it. It looked like they were talking. I still didn’t dismount, though. Micah must have figured I was getting ready to leave camp by myself and grabbed onto Maple’s reins.

“Gotta get off before you do somethin’ stupid,” he said.  
“Leave me alone, Micah,” I snapped, grabbing the reins from him. “Touch Maple again and I will ensure she kicks you again.”  
He chuckled. “Oh, boy, don’t you have a smart mouth on you? You don’t wanna make Dutch angry, do ya? So you gotta get off sooner or later.”  
“As long as you are here, it will be later.”  
“I was thinkin’ you were gonna say that.”

Without any warning, Micah grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. I was immediately kicking and screaming and hitting him to put me down. He had waited until Charles and Dutch went into the tent to possibly speak further.

“Micah Bell, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Susan shouted at him.  
“She’s just gonna take a quick dip in the lake, Miss Grimshaw; nothin’ to worry about,” Micah replied.  
“Micah, you put me down right now!” I shouted.  
“No can do, princess.”

I kicked and screamed harder and hit him harder, but to no avail. Sean tried to get Micah to let me go, too, but got shoved away. Lenny, one of the only people in the camp I had never spoken to, tried to grab me, and Micah only turned and warned him to stay away. Dutch and Charles finally came out of the tent. Micah kept saying that everything was fine, that I just needed to cool down -- “The princess needs to cool off” -- but nobody was able to get close enough to get him to put me down. Not only was the lake nearby freezing cold with icy shards on the surface, but Dutch knew that I had never learned how to swim.

“Micah, you put her down this goddamn instant,” he demanded.  
“Whatever you say, boss,” Micah replied, dropping me onto the ground.

Charles helped me up from the ground almost immediately. I quickly spun around on Micah and punched him in the face. Micah didn’t have time to mock me or be sarcastic with me, because I immediately began screaming at him. I gave him a nosebleed and I had felt a bone crack beneath my fist upon impact.

“You don’t _ever_ touch me! Do you hear me?! Ever! I am not a princess! You don’t look at me, you don’t talk to me, and you sure as _hell_ do not ever touch my horse! You’re lucky you only have a broken nose, you goddamn son of a whore!”

I stormed into Dutch’s tent and kicked over my travelling trunk. It was only quiet outside for a moment before Susan spoke up.

“If you ever lay another finger on that girl, you’re gonna have to worry about more than a broken nose,” she threatened. “Is anyone gonna check up on her or shall I?”

Dutch then came into the tent. It looked like I was about to get scolded, but that wasn’t the case. We weren’t supposed to be violent towards each other in camp. Threatening to punch someone or hit them was one thing, but actually doing it was a no-go, so I understood that he looked angry because I had punched Micah in the face. I clearly wasn’t myself, or at least I wasn’t the same as before I got kidnapped. I didn’t swear and I had fallen back into being isolated.

“That was an exception,” Dutch told me.

I shrugged and wiped the tears from my face. If he was expecting me to apologize for punching a cretin in the face, I wasn’t going to. As far as I was concerned, he had deserved it, and more. It was an impulsive choice to do what I had done. I shouldn’t have done it but how else was I supposed to get my point across that he wasn’t allowed to touch me or call me princess?

“Are you okay?” Dutch asked.  
“Yes, Dutch,” I said sarcastically. “I’m perfect. I love being kidnapped and tortured and belittled.”  
“Calm down.”  
“No, _you_ calm down.”

Dutch raised his hand and placed it on my shoulder. I had thought he was going to hit me and had flinched. It took a moment for me to realize that he wasn’t going to hit me and I burst out crying. I let him hug me, but it didn’t feel right to me. I didn’t know if it was because I wasn’t feeling like myself or if it was because of something else completely.  
***

I wandered out of the tent later on in the evening. I didn’t know what I was doing outside the tent, but I had awoken from a nightmare. Dutch had fallen asleep already and I didn’t want to wake him to try and talk to him. I’d talked to him a bit about what happened at the cabin, but I hadn’t told him everything. There were some things I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him yet.

Javier was sitting by the campfire, smoking. I hadn’t come back out of the tent until now since I hadn’t known how to face anyone else. But I walked over to him nervously. According to Dutch, the only one who had a problem with my screaming and hitting was Micah. He’d told me that to try and get me back out of the tent to begin with, but it hadn’t worked.

“Evening, Evie,” Javier said when I approached him. “You can sit with me.”  
I sighed as I sat next to him. “I apologize for that...display of mine.”  
“You don’t have to.” He looked at me. “It was about time someone did it. And whatever happened at the -- what was it? -- cabin, it wasn’t good.”  
“Do you know what happened?”  
“I was at my tent when Hosea came in with that sack. I didn’t see nothing, but we all heard Dutch and Hosea talking about it later on. Sean and Charles saw, though. O’Driscolls are messed up.” He took a puff of his cigarette, shaking his head. “That shit is too much.”  
“Javier, can I...um...have some?”  
“You smoke?”  
“I do not, but...”

Javier handed me his cigarette with no more questions asked. He stayed quiet while I took a few puffs.

“You and Dutch talk things through?” he asked when I handed it back to him.  
“Some things,” I replied. “Micah thought I ran back to Daddy, did he?”  
“Pearson, too.”  
“What about you?”  
“I thought you needed to be alone. Have some time to yourself. You found out that Bonnie is an O’Driscoll. I know you wouldn’t abandon Dutch. But when that sack came, I knew shit was serious.”  
“There are bad people, and then there are...them.”  
“At least you’re back.”

Javier leaned forward and looked passed me. I followed his gaze. Sean was stumbling around with a whiskey bottle in his hand. It looked like he was going to fall at any time, really.

“Sean really saw it,” Javier told me. “He’s been like this every night since you came back.”  
“I cannot blame him,” I admitted, standing. “I will be right back.”  
“Okay.”

I walked over to where Sean was trying to stand up straight. He was going to be able to find his way back to his tent eventually, but I just figured I would give him a little help. Sean was sober during the day for the most part, but if he was getting drunk every night since he brought me home...

“Sean, are you okay?” I asked.  
“Evie! Fuckin’ hell, ya scared me,” he said.  
“I have been standing right in front of you.”  
“Have ya, now? Oh, yeah, ’cause I was just thinkin’, ‘There’s a pretty lady there.’ I just didn’t say nothin’.”  
“Let me help you to your tent before you hurt yourself.”  
“Ain’t ya with Dutch?”  
“I am not helping you like that, Sean. I am...sorry you feel the need to do this to yourself.”  
“Those god--hic--damn O’Driscoll fucks. That fuckin’ -- hic -- O’Driscoll cunt.”  
“You do not know the half of it.”

We made it over to Sean’s tent, where he just toppled over and immediately passed out. I made sure he was actually sleeping by listening quietly. He snored slightly, and I turned around to return to Javier’s side.

“That was nice of you to do,” Javier said.  
“As much as people tell me not to blame myself for getting kidnapped, I cannot help but think it is my fault,” I replied. “I feel responsible for making Sean and Charles spend almost two weeks trying to track me down and now that Sean is drinking more the feeling is worse.”  
“It’s really not. Do you want me to stay with you?”  
“No. No, it is okay.”

Javier left to settle in for the night, leaving me at the campfire by myself. Some others were still awake, finishing up anything that needed to be done before sleeping. It was quite late; I’d chosen the wrong time to come out. Just when I stood to return to Dutch’s tent, Charles came over to me.

“Are you up for a short ride?” he asked.  
“Why?” I muttered.  
“It should help you get to sleep.”

I gestured toward the horses so he knew that I was saying “yes”. As long as we weren’t going far from camp, I didn’t mind. He mounted his horse, I mounted mine, and we headed out. Charles let John know when we passed him. I was sure Charles needed the sleep, too, but I could sense that there was an ulterior motive for getting me out of camp. We went to the hill that overlooked Blackwater.

“What is it, Charles?” I asked. “I know you said it would help me, but what are we really doing out here?”  
“Dutch asked me to talk to you,” he admitted. “He knows you didn’t tell him everything that happened.”  
“Of course he does, but why does he think I will tell you?”  
“He knows you trust me.”  
“Alright, but I trust Sean, Javier, Miss Grimshaw, and Abigail, too.”  
“Sean has a big mouth and you don’t know Javier as well as us. I don’t know about Miss Grimshaw, but you haven’t looked at Abigail all week.”  
“That is... Well...”  
“After what happened with Micah today, there ain’t no reason to believe you’re okay. Not in the slightest. Listen. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. If you do, that’s fine, too. I won’t tell Dutch if you don’t want me to.”

I thought hard for a good couple of moments. Of course I wasn’t okay. I never swore and I never smoked, and I wasn’t a violent person unless I had to be. I didn’t have to punch Micah in the face, or scream at him, or swear at him. I wasn’t sorry for punching Micah, but I was sorry for the display that I had shown. If I had just let Charles hold my arm, nothing would have happened. If I had just gotten off Maple in the first place nothing would have happened. I’d shown Dutch the burns and scars I had on my body; to say he had been angry would have been an understatement. I told him about Bonnie hitting me and not being allowed to sleep for more than a few hours at a time during the night.

“You saw that there was a table, right?” I choked out.  
“I did,” Charles replied.  
“No matter how much I struggled, those ropes never gave way.”  
“I’m...not sure what you’re trying to say.”  
“Dutch..._knew_ without my having to tell him what Bonnie and Colm let those men do to me.”  
“Oh.”  
“What I did not tell him was that Bonnie intended to force me to...” I let out a shaky sigh. “She was trying to make me their whore.”  
“Evie, hey...”  
“What?”  
“Is that why you wanted another bath?”  
“I feel...I feel...dirty. I scrubbed myself until my skin turned red, but I still felt dirty. It is like I can still feel their hands on me, like I can still hear them calling me ‘princess’. I screamed and I cried as much as I could, but why would they listen to me?”  
“Colm and his boys are known for stealing, raping, and killing whatever and whoever they want. I tracked you the best I could. I was worried we were gonna find a dead body.”  
“Bonnie said not to kill me. They could do whatever they wanted to me except kill me. You know, there was one day when she seemed to be really angry about something. I never found out what it was about, but she decided to take that anger out on me. Untied me and everything so she could throw me around like a ragdoll and kick and hit me as much as she wanted. What I really cannot tell Dutch is that while she was kicking me while I was down, she asked me if I love him.”  
“What happened? What did you say?”  
“I...could not answer her, and I still cannot answer her.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_

“Good morning, Sean,” I mumbled as I trudged out of Dutch’s tent.  
“Weirdest thing; I woke up in me tent this mornin’,” Sean mentioned.  
I rubbed my eyes. “As opposed to where?”  
“I dunno. The ground. Who knows?”  
“Sean, are you okay?”  
“Of course.”

Sean took one look at me but just as quickly looked away. He was able to look at me when he was drunk, no problem, but now? It seemed like it was nearly impossible. Everyone had seen things most people could never fathom, but the contents of the sack were probably one of the worst things anyone had ever seen in history. If it was bothering Dutch and Hosea, too, there was no indication. They’d been around much longer than Sean, obviously.

“No, you’re not,” I muttered.  
“Hey, who the hell are ya to say I am or what I’m not?”  
“It is not _who_ I am; it is _what_ I am, and what I am is concerned and sorry.”  
“You ain’t the one who sent that sack.”

I stared at him; Sean did have a big mouth and I’d unintentionally tricked him into telling me what the problem was. He turned to me and forced himself to look me in the eye. No one was okay after what had happened with Colm and Bonnie. Charles and I had returned to find Karen checking every nook and cranny for me, almost like I was hiding, which led to her and Susan scolding me in the middle of camp in the late hours of the night. It hadn’t mattered I was with Charles; it was difficult for me to go anywhere without even telling one of the other ladies where I was going to be. The only reason I hadn’t gotten scolded for going into town with Charles was because he had taken it upon himself to tell Susan where we were going to be. When Karen had promised that she wasn’t going to let me out of her sight, she’d meant it.

“Well, no,” I said. “No, I am not. But drinking more than usual will not make it go away.”  
“It does,” Sean replied. “For a while, at least. O’Driscoll fucks. Anyone ask if you’re okay?”  
“Most people have already asked or keep asking.”  
“If it means anythin’, good job punchin’ that oily bastard.”  
“‘Oily ba...’ What?”  
“Micah.”

Sean started to walk away, but then stopped when a horse I didn’t recognize rode into camp. By the sound of things, everyone pretty much knew who the man was on top of the horse. Dutch and Hosea weren’t around, though I doubted anyone would allow a strange person inside. Javier was keeping watch out front and so I assumed if this man was a complete stranger, he either would have told him to turn around or come in with him.

“Trelawny,” Charles greeted.  
“Hello, dear boy,” the man replied. “Is Dutch or Hosea around?”  
“They ain’t gonna be back for a while,” Susan said. “What can we do you for?”  
“I assume that young lady is still here with you?”  
“Evie-- For Christ’s sake, where did she get off to, now?”  
“Aw, is the princess shy?” Micah snorted.  
“She ain’t a princess,” Abigail shot back. “Evie?”

I had escaped back into Dutch’s tent. I didn’t want to meet anyone else. I was just starting to get comfortable again after speaking with Charles the night before. But Abigail stopped outside with a sigh and looked in. She had to coax me out by telling me that Trelawny wouldn’t harm me in the slightest. I was more likely to be chased by a bear than be harmed by him. The only people he played like a fiddle were outside of the camp...whatever _that_ meant.

By the time Abigail got me back to where Trelawny was waiting, mostly everyone was back to doing what they had been doing before. Charles was still standing near him, though. Abigail stood with us, too. I didn’t know why I felt the need to do it, but I held my hand out.

“Well, well, you are as polite as Dutch says,” Trelawny quipped, shaking it.  
“I apologize for hiding,” I said. “Things have not been good. Why am I out here?”  
“Evangeline, was it?”  
“Evie is okay.”  
“Is your father Cornelius Locke?”  
“Evie, your face,” Charles said, sounding a bit startled.  
“What about my face?” I choked out.  
“It’s white as a ghost.”  
“Shall I take that as a ‘yes’?” Trelawny asked.  
“Yes...” I mumbled, and then cleared my throat. “Cornelius is my father.”  
“Well, then, good thing I came here. It appears that your father has come to find you. I thought it would be nice to come and warn you.”

Bonnie must have told my father where I was, or at least the general area. It must have taken him so long to actually show up to the area because of all the appointments and meetings he had to postpone. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to drive a stagecoach in the snow, if he took a stagecoach at all. What was the possibility that he would be out on the trail near camp? Would he stay in one of the towns nearby and ask about me? I was going to be stuck in camp if I didn’t figure out where Cornelius was staying. The worst that could happen was if I ran into him, and I wouldn’t even be alone. Unless he got the law involved. I wanted to see my father; I really did, but not like this.

“Thank you, Mister Trelawny,” I mumbled.  
“Please, you can call me Josiah,” Trelawny replied. “Now, then, please excuse me.”

He wandered further into the camp, leaving Charles, Abigail and I by the horses. Of course Bonnie would have told Cornelius where I was. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for me, anyway. He probably hadn’t thought that I was in a cold place. I was always so picky with the weather as a little girl that perhaps he figured I didn’t want to experience snow or early darkness.

“What do we do?” I asked.  
“We gotta tell Dutch,” Abigail replied.  
“He and Hosea just left, though,” Charles said. “We can go find him, but I doubt he’ll like being interrupted.”  
“Hey!” Pearson shouted from his butcher table. “Charles! Evie! Go out and hunt somethin’!”  
“Come on. Let’s go do what the man says.”

I went and grabbed my crossbow from Dutch’s tent. I knew my father; he wouldn’t venture out into an area he didn’t know without settling into a spot in town first. He most likely wasn’t anywhere near being out on the trail yet and that would at least give Charles, Abigail, or myself enough time to tell Dutch that Cornelius was in the area. What really bothered me about him being around wasn’t the fact he would try and convince me to go home to Arkansas.

“What’s on your mind?” Charles asked.  
“Do you think Mama told the O’Driscolls not to hurt Daddy?” I replied.  
“Hard to say. This is the same woman who let them do whatever they wanted to you, but still said they couldn’t kill you. If there’s any real heart beating in that chest of hers, maybe your father is safe out here.”  
“My father is not a bad man, Charles. He is just...overbearing. He would rather see me in a loveless marriage than be out here.”  
“After meeting your mother, I can see why. But still, that ain’t a reason to force you into something you don’t want.”

I let out a shaky sigh. As I had thought before after meeting Bonnie, Cornelius probably tried so hard to keep me at home because he didn’t want me to discover what kind of person she really was. Would I have listened to him if he told me from the beginning what she was like? Or would I have run away regardless? Perhaps Bonnie had some love left over for Cornelius and she spared him the details of the O’Driscolls holding me at that cabin.

“If anyone comes for you, Evie,” Charles said, stopping near the clearing, “no one’s gonna let you go. You’re in the family now.”  
“I know, Charles.”  
“Do you?”  
“Well, I... No, no, I do not know.”  
“I won’t tell Dutch. Let’s get what we need and head back.”

Charles shot a buck and had it on the back of his horse before I could even decide which doe I wanted to go for. I was so anxious about everything -- Sean’s drinking, the question Bonnie had asked that I couldn’t answer, and now Cornelius. There was no point in worrying over the last situation, but as for Sean I didn’t want him to drown himself and as for the question... I was still so unsure. I allowed Dutch to touch me again after talking things through and through my tears I had told him I loved him, but I wasn’t even sure if the feeling was truly there. I knew I felt safe, but love felt as if it was just out of reach.

“If you can’t focus, it’s okay,” Charles assured me, grabbing my arm. “The one I caught should be enough, at least for two days.”

I got out of his grasp and immediately shot a doe. It wasn’t my cleanest kill, but I didn’t want to return to camp empty-handed when Pearson asked for both of us to get something. Charles helped me get the doe up onto the back of Maple and we headed back to camp. We both stopped just short of the clearing to enter the camp and looked at each other. No one was watching for anyone coming. I had a faint idea of why it was so. We slowly approached the clearing. Charles continued on inside, but I stopped just behind a horse that wasn’t hitched.

It was Cornelius’ horse. Charles and I had been gone not even an hour. I didn’t know whether to turn around and run from my father or hitch Maple up and go inside. Neither was a good option, but I realized that The Count was mounted, at least, meaning Dutch was back. I followed after Charles and hitched Maple up. Javier was standing slightly off to the side of Cornelius. It was too quiet. No one was making any movements to look at Charles and I, lest Cornelius realize that I was in camp after all.

“All I am asking is for you to return my daughter to me,” Cornelius said.  
“It ain’t like I’m holding her hostage,” Dutch replied. “I asked and she came willingly.”  
“That may be so, Mister van der Linde, but--”  
“There ain’t no ‘buts’ about it,” Susan interrupted.

Cornelius sighed, shaking his head, which led to him noticing that I was essentially cowering behind Maple. I moved lower behind my horse and heard the crunch of snow, meaning he took a step toward me. Or at least he tried to.

“I’m assuming you know she met that Bonnie,” Dutch said.  
“I... No, Bonnie only told me she saw her from afar,” Cornelius admitted, sounding confused.  
“Of course. Evie, come here.”

I really didn’t want to move from where I was, but Cornelius wouldn’t leave until I showed myself and Dutch would just keep insisting that I stand next to him. I didn’t know what he was trying to do, but I had to trust him. Soon my father would become increasingly desperate to try and force me to go back.

“What is waiting for her in Arkansas?” Charles asked when I finally wandered over to Dutch.  
“Excuse me?” Cornelius replied.

As much as I knew my father was a good man, he had problems with those who weren’t of the same skin tone as us. Beth and the other maids were black and he only ever talked to them when it was absolutely necessary. Apologies to them were usually said as if he were struggling to get the words out. He didn’t beat them, at least not physically. I liked Beth, and so I hoped nothing bad happened to her after I left.

“Oh, we know about the pastor’s grandson,” Dutch told him.  
“Why is he here?” I asked.  
“Sneaky son of a bitch tried to follow me and Hosea in. He must have seen us outside town.”

Cornelius so clearly lacked the ability to be sneaky when it didn’t involve money. He was so desperate to get me back that he willingly followed outlaws into the camp?

“Your father is a fool,” Charles said.  
“I never said he wasn’t,” I replied.  
“Tessa, listen--” Cornelius began.  
“You do not call me that!”

He stepped back, a look of surprise coming over his face. Javier pushed him back forward. Cornelius wanted to be in the camp, then he was going to stay in the camp until it was evident he was going to leave and never come back. If no one scared him into never telling anyone where we were hidden, then I would. I felt bad for him just thinking about it, but I refused to lay down and take it.

“If I had known you were truly going to run away, then we could have spoken about all this,” he said.  
“I tried, but you would not listen to me,” I retorted. “There is no speaking to you when you have made up your mind.”  
“I was trying to keep you safe.”  
“From who? Mama? There is no need to anymore. I know what she is like and you...you let me believe in something that was not real!”

He stayed quiet. He was wrong and he knew it. There was no reason for him to not know it. Bonnie was a horrible person. How he managed to have a grasp on her for as long as he did was beyond me. How had they fallen in love? How had _Bonnie_ fallen in love with someone as boring and simple as Cornelius? According to my father, he had not yet come into his inheritance at the time they met. Bonnie hadn’t been in it for the money; she took nothing with her when she left me. Cornelius appeared to have an epiphany.

“How is it that you know what she is like?” he inquired. “What... What did she do?”  
“What _didn’t_ she do?” Charles asked in a hostile tone.  
“You had best watch your mouth with me.”  
“Charles and anyone here can speak to you however the hell they want to!” I shouted.

Cornelius was taken aback. The last thing he expected was for me to take up swearing. Someone didn’t go through what I did without some kind of changes in their behaviour. I was trying to put off telling him what happened, but it was going to come out any moment now.

“What happened to you, Tessa?” Cornelius demanded. “You never raised your voice or used profanity before. These people are a bad influence on you and I implore you to listen to me and come home!”  
“You want to know what happened?” I snapped. “Mama happened! The O’Driscolls happened!”  
“What...? She is still with _them_?”

What did he mean by “still”? She couldn’t have been running for them for a long time, could she? I thought back to the day she left me and the man whom she had left with clearly had not been Colm, even if I shaved twenty years off. I shook my head to rid myself of the memory, clenching my jaw.

“Want me to tell him or do you want to?” Dutch asked.  
“Tell me what?” Cornelius said. “It does not matter -- Tessa, you know blood is thicker than water; you should be coming home with me, not staying with these...ahem..._people_.”  
“I share blood with Mama,” I hissed, “and you wish to stand there and tell me what I should and should not be doing? You know what? No. _Bonnie_ is the reason I am so angry. The _O’Driscolls_ are why I am so angry. And now _you_ are why I am so angry! Blood does not mean anything! It is not some...some binding contract! Do you know what _blood_ has gotten me?! It has gotten me kidnapped, and beaten, and nearly forced into something I did not want!”  
“Tessa--”  
“Don’t you dare interrupt me! Bonnie wanted to make me out to be _their whore_! She told Colm O’Driscoll about me and I was _gutted_ because of her! She beat me until I couldn’t even stand!” Susan held my arm to keep me from stepping forward. “_You_ didn’t listen to me and you went against my wishes with Declan and Father O’Malley and acted like it was best for me! You tried to bribe Dutch despite the fact I was happy! So don’t you _dare_ stand there and tell me that blood is more important because it doesn’t mean a fucking thing!”

It looked like Cornelius was going to topple over and perish right there. He was white in the face at all the information I had just shouted at him. There was a moment when he continuously tried to open his mouth to say something, but he just seemed to look confused. White as a ghost, but so very confused. Not even his clients had ever screamed at him like I had, even under the most dire circumstances.

“What...do you mean when you said you were...‘gutted’?” he asked slowly.  
“I left Arkansas pregnant,” I breathed, shaking from how angry I was.  
“You...” He looked at Dutch. “You did this to her.”  
“I did no such thing,” Dutch replied.  
“If it were not for you, she would not be here!”  
“What was I supposed to do, Father?” I sniffled. “Allow myself to be thrown into an asylum? Allow you to send the baby off to an orphanage and be caught in a marriage with Declan?”

Cornelius shook his head with a sigh and reached into his jacket. He was only pulling out a money clip, but Sean and Javier pointed their guns at him. It was only a precaution, but it still looked like they made my father even more nervous. All the blood had drained from his face and what was returning quickly drained again when they didn’t lower the guns.

“Six thousand dollars,” he said, his voice shaking. “Hand Tessa over and it’s yours.”

I held my breath and stepped back into Susan and Abigail. It wasn’t the same situation as when Cornelius met with Dutch and tried to bribe him into staying away from me. There were more people and there was more money. Some of them I didn’t know too well yet; Lenny I didn’t know at all since we had never spoken to each other, Uncle was usually sleeping, and Reverend Swanson was always either on morphine or incredibly drunk. Not to mention that Javier and I had only ever spoken a small handful of times. I still didn’t know if the ladies felt like I belonged with them, even if they said I did.

“Put it away, Mister Locke,” Dutch demanded.  
Of all the people Cornelius could look at, he looked at Sean. “What about you?”  
“Go jump in the lake and freeze, ya English fucker,” Sean snapped.  
“Really? Not one of you is willing to let Tessa go?”  
“I’m not forcing her to stay here,” Dutch reminded him. “If she wanted to leave, she would.”  
“She is not like you. She comes from class -- higher society than any of you could ever hope to achieve in your pathetic lives. Yes, I would rather have her be married to someone she does not love than see her out here. You will get her killed. Tessa!”

I wasn’t worth the back and forth, but no one was going to let me go. Micah, surprisingly, had kept his mouth shut the whole time. If anyone was going to take the money and shove me toward my father, it would have been him. That would just make a fallout with even Dutch inevitable, though. In a way, I was thankful to Micah for keeping his stupid mouth shut.

“Daddy, even if I did go back, why would anyone want me?” I asked. “Would you just hope no one finds out I was a runaway and that those things didn’t happen?”  
“She don’t wanna go,” Javier told him, “and we ain’t letting her go.”  
“It’s best for you to turn around and go home,” Dutch said, stepping toward Cornelius. “And don’t even think about telling anyone where we are. If you do, we’ll track you down and make sure you pay. It ain’t just your daughter I’m looking out for. It’s everyone.”  
“You--”  
“Choose your next words _very. carefully. sir_.” Dutch took the money clip from Cornelius. “I’ll be taking this as your word you won’t be the next one to put Evie in danger.”

Cornelius looked even more scared just from Dutch’s tone of voice. He knew that he was serious about finding him if anyone came to the camp because of him. I had been worried someone was going to kill my father -- I would never want it to go that far. My father looked at me before running out of the camp in a panic.

“Javier, go and make sure he goes to town and stays there,” Dutch instructed. “Everyone, get back to work, but someone stay with Evie; I’ve got something that needs doing.”  
Charles turned to me with a sigh. “You okay?”  
“No,” I sniffled.  
“Come sit with me by the fire. Relax.”  
***

I didn’t come out of Dutch’s tent until the next afternoon. The whole camp knew my actual name and I didn’t want to hear anyone talking about it. Well, Evie was part of my actual name, of course, but it wasn’t my given name. Still, when I stepped outside the tent, Karen immediately ran over to me. I almost backed up into the tent.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “I told you, we ain’t lettin’ you go.”  
“No,” I sighed. “No, I am not alright, Karen.”  
“I suppose not. May I ask you a question?”  
“Is it about my name?”  
“Well...yes... Okay, look, the girls and me are confused.”

I instructed her to follow me over to where the girls were darning and doing laundry. They at least deserved an explanation if they were doing their best to be nice to me. Did I lie to them? Maybe they thought so, but then that meant Dutch also lied to them. He knew my given name and respected the fact I wanted to be called by my middle name.

“Your first name is Tessa?” Mary Beth asked. “It don’t suit you.”  
“What I’m tryin’ to figure out is if you lied to everyone or not,” Tilly admitted.  
“If you think I did, you need to bring it up with Dutch,” I replied. “He knew.”  
“Where does Evangeline come from? I heard Trelawny call you that yesterday.”  
“It’s my middle name, but it is a mouthful so I just prefer Evie.”

Dutch was talking to Javier as he was mounting his horse. Javier was waiting for some reason as Dutch wandered over to where I was. I turned to him with a small sigh.

“You remember the way to your father’s house?” he asked.  
Now I was the one who was confused. “Yes...?”  
“Go with Javier. He’ll explain on the way.”  
“Dutch, it is almost a full day of travelling both ways.”  
“I know that; just go. And take Sean with you!”

He had taken it upon himself to get my crossbow and gun from the tent, and even strapped my travelling trunk to Maple. We were going to be going in the direction of Arkansas, which hopefully meant was the complete opposite that Colm, his boys, and Bonnie went. I mounted Maple and off Javier, Sean, and I went. With any luck, Maple would be able to adapt right back to flat, earthy ground and we would be able to be faster.

“Your father is still in town,” Javier explained. “Dutch thinks it’s a good time to go to your house and take what you had to leave behind.”  
“Of my jewellery, you mean,” I said.  
“Yeah.”  
“So we’re gonna be ridin’ into the middle of a town where Evie is wanted?” Sean asked. “What a bright fuckin’ idea.”  
“We’re going into the town at night, Sean.”  
“Alright, fine.”

Knowing Cornelius, he definitely would have asked anyone to keep an eye out for me if I returned. Someone was going to be watching the house, at least during the day. I didn’t know how we were going to walk right through the front door unnoticed; the lock was loud and the floor right near the door creaked beneath any kind of weight. And it wasn’t as if we would be able to get into my bedroom window; it was at the front of the house and someone would surely see at least someone scaling the outside. Cornelius’ bedroom was at the back, so perhaps we could get in that way. Sean and Javier could have gone by themselves if it wasn’t so far.

By the time we got just outside of my town, the sun was just about going down. Maple remembered the direction of the stables and started to try and go in that direction. I had to get off of her to keep her from going anywhere. The three of us found a more secluded spot where it would be difficult for anyone to see us going in or out of the town.

“It don’t look like a city,” Sean muttered. “Is that your house over there?”  
“The big one?” I asked. “Yes. It is the biggest.”  
“Get some rest,” Javier said. “We’re gonna get in and get out quickly, and we ain’t gonna stop until we can get back in the snow. It’ll also throw any lawmakers off our tails.”  
“Um...Jav...Javier? The only law here is two men.”

Sean and Javier looked at me like I was mad. There was next to no crime in my town at all. It was considered quaint and the only one house that had anything of value was my house. But people didn’t tend to come by because they figured with a house like mine there was round the clock surveillance. My house had almost gotten robbed once and it was the house that made him get caught. He’d picked the front door lock, ran across creaky floorboards, and made the mistake of walking into the kitchen; there was a small bell hanging above the door leading into the kitchen.

“Convenient,” Javier mumbled. “Either way, we’re gonna have to leave quickly. So get some rest.”

It felt so strange being so close to my house. It almost didn’t seem real, for some reason. Did I get so used to being outside and living in a tent? I wasn’t even gone for that long. I rested up as best I could, but when Javier was trying to wake me up I didn’t want to get up. Still, I forced myself up and realized he was having an even harder time waking Sean.

“Sean,” I groggily said. “Hey.”

He didn’t even make a sound. If it weren’t for the fact I could see his chest rising and lowering with his breathing, I would have thought he was dead. I went over to him and tried to shake him awake. All that warranted was a sleepy mumble.

“Wake up,” I muttered, lightly slapping his cheek.

Javier finally kicked Sean in the leg, which finally woke him up. The kick didn’t look hard, but it sounded hard.

“Get up, both of you,” Javier demanded, grabbing the travelling trunk from Maple. “Let’s go.”

The two of them followed me into the town. It was as quiet as I remembered it being at night, with the slight noise of horses in the stable. I led them around the back of my house and stopped just below Cornelius’ bedroom window. The trellis still looked as if it was in decent shape to be climbed. It was just a matter of who was going to climb up.

“You wanna do it Evie?” Javier asked.  
“Why, so you can look up her dress, ya dog?” Sean teased.  
“Shut up. She knows the house.”  
“Yeah, right. I’ll go.” He grabbed a file from his pocket. “How are you two gettin’ in?”  
“You will have to be quiet,” I told him. “Let us in through the parlour; it is down the stairs and to the right side. If the doors are closed, they will be double doors.”

Sean climbed up the trellis and I watched him shove the file beneath the frame. It took a good moment for him to get it opened, but once he did he went right into Cornelius’ bedroom. I led Javier over to the parlour window to wait for Sean to get downstairs.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Javier admitted.  
“Yes?” I replied, peaking into the window.  
“So there’s Kansas...but then there’s Arkansas. Why isn’t Arkansas--”  
“I asked Daddy that same question when I was younger and he did not know, so I do not know. It is just one of those things.”  
“What the hell is taking Sean so long?”

I stared intently at the double doors leading into the parlour; they were locked. I could see that they were jiggling however, and it wasn’t but a moment until Sean managed to pick the lock open. He looked a bit spooked, really, but immediately closed them back up after entering the parlour.

“Fuckin’ maid almost caught me,” he whispered when he opened the window.  
Javier looked at me. “You have maids?”

I shrugged in response and hopped up onto the windowsill. Sean helped me through before turning to Javier and taking the travelling trunk and allowing him to climb through the window. The two of them looked around the parlour for a moment. Had they never been inside a nice house before? Granted, it was one of the nicest houses around, but I was sure they had to at least robbed one or two great houses in their lives. While they looked around, I pressed my ear to one of the double doors. Whoever had almost caught Sean was gone, but to make sure I opened the doors a crack and peeked out.

“Come on,” I whispered.

The two of them followed closely behind me out of the parlour and up the stairs to my bedroom. It was just the way I had left it. My larger travelling trunk was still sitting in the middle of the floor and my jewellery case still had its small drawers slightly pulled out. The trunk Sean was carrying would be almost completely filled after the case was emptied.

“Are these real diamonds?” Sean asked.

I looked at what he was holding; they were Bonnie’s earrings that I hadn’t let Dutch initially take. At that time I had felt panicked that he would pocket them anyway if I had not taken them from him. But now all I wanted to do was get rid of them.

“Yes,” I replied.  
“You sure you wanna get rid of those?” Javier inquired, looking away from the door.  
“They should have a good price on them and besides, they’re Bonnie’s.”

Sean dropped them into the travelling trunk and continued to go through all the jewellery. Javier was keeping watch, just in case a maid decided to come upstairs and we had to be quiet. It wasn’t hot in Blackwater just yet, but I hadn’t grabbed my parasol when leaving with Dutch in the first place. I was going to need it eventually. I tucked it beneath my arm with a quiet sigh.

“We should leave soon,” I suggested. “Someone is bound to notice my light is on and come investigate.”  
“Almost got everything,” Sean assured me.  
“Shut up!” Javier hissed.

He took a step away from the door, shutting it quietly. I listened quietly. There was someone coming up the stairs. I gestured to the light switch and Javier at least dimmed it. I didn’t want to get caught and I didn’t want Sean or Javier to get caught, either. If it came down to it, though, I would make myself known if it meant helping them leave.

“Mister Cornelius, have you returned home?” Beth called. “What did Miss Tessa say? Will she be returning? Sir?”

Sean hadn’t closed the window in my father’s room, I remembered. I hoped he had at least known to shut the door. Beth knew someone was in the house, probably from the light footsteps from my walking over to my parasol. It was a good few moments of silence, until...

“Miss Tessa?” she murmured.

Javier hid in my armoire and Sean hid beneath my bed. From what I could see of Javier peeking out of the armoire, he was telling me to talk to her to make her go away. I turned the light back on higher and opened the door. When Beth saw me, it looked like she was going to faint.

“Oh, Miss Tessa!” she exclaimed. “You’re alright!”  
“Of course,” I replied.  
“Wh-What are you doing here? Mister Cornelius has been so worried!”  
“I am not staying, Beth. I just needed to come get some things and I will be leaving again.”  
“Your father said if you came home to not let you go. I’m sorry, but I have to listen to him.”  
“I am sorry, too.”

I quickly grabbed my gun and hit her over the head with it. She fell to the floor with a thud; hopefully no one else heard the impact.

“Okay, you need to hurry, Sean,” I huffed.

Sean quickly got back to putting jewellery in the travelling trunk and Javier dragged Beth into the bedroom so he could close the door again. With any luck, the other maids were already asleep or so preoccupied with something else that they wouldn’t realize Beth wasn’t back. I didn’t want anyone to come looking for her until we were gone.

“That’s everything,” Sean said. “Let’s go.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_

At Camp/3rd Person POV

“Has anyone seen Evie?” Mary Beth asked.  
“Dutch’s tent?” Javier suggested.  
“That’s the first place I checked. Evie!”

She walked around the camp, looking in other tents and a little bit into the forest, but she couldn’t find Evie at all. Her eyes were full of worry. What if Miss Grimshaw got mad at her? It wasn’t her responsibility to watch that girl, but she and the ladies had meant it when they promised they wouldn’t let her out of their sights.

“Charles, have you seen Evie?” Karen asked. “Mary Beth ain’t seen her in a while.”  
“Have you checked to see if her horse is still here?” Charles replied.

Karen walked over to where the horses were hitched. Two horses were missing -- Boadicea and Maple. Everyone knew Arthur was out working, but no one knew what Evie was doing outside of camp. Arthur had left on his own early in the morning and she had only woken up long after he had left. This meant that she had gone outside the camp on her own for the first time in a while. Even if she needed to be alone, if she told anyone what she was doing she would have been followed, at least.

“Her horse is gone!” Karen shouted.  
“Whose horse is gone?” Dutch asked.  
“Evie’s!”  
“She must have snuck out when everyone wasn’t looking,” Charles said.  
“Who was on lookout?”  
“Bill, I think.”

Dutch and Karen went out to where Bill was meant to keep watch; he was still there, gun at the ready if need be.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked.  
“Did you see Evie leave?” Karen said.  
“Now that you mention it, yeah, I did. Thought it was weird she didn’t have anyone with her.”  
“She ain’t supposed to leave camp alone,” Dutch scolded.  
“What’s wrong with you?” Karen muttered, walking back into the camp.  
“How long ago?”  
“I dunno. A couple hours?”

Dutch went back into camp. He and Hosea were supposed to go see how things were, but maybe he was going to have to go looking for her himself.

“I’ll go,” Charles offered, already mounting his horse. “I’ll check the spots I know she likes going.”

He quickly left the camp, first going to the clearing where he and Evie usually caught food for everyone. The next spot was the clearing that had the rock big enough to hide behind. Then it was the hill that overlooked Blackwater. For a moment, Charles contemplated going to see Cornelius, but there was already so much hostility there that it might not work out. It didn’t take a lot of back and forth, though, for Charles to pull it together and head to the town Evie’s father was staying in. Maybe Evie had gone to see him, just to talk things through. She’d been upset after returning from Arkansas.

“How can I help you, sir?” the clerk at the front desk of the hotel asked.  
“Is Cornelius Locke staying here?” Charles replied.  
“Is something the matter?”  
“That a ‘yes’?”  
The clerk sighed. “Room one.”

Charles went and knocked on room one’s door. It was only a few seconds before Cornelius opened up. Charles had expected for him to just slam the door shut in his face, but that isn’t what happened.

“What do you want?” Cornelius inquired.  
“Have you seen Evie?”  
“No, I have not, and even if I did see her, I would not tell you.”  
“She isn’t supposed to leave camp on her own.”  
“No? Then do you want to tell me how she got into my house and took all her jewellery I ever bought her? My maid sent a telegram.”  
“That doesn’t matter.” Charles sighed. “I knew this was a waste of time. Do you know if she drinks?”  
“I would hope that she does. I cannot imagine she would be sober if she let the likes of Dutch van der Linde into her sheets.”  
“That’s your kid you’re talking about.”

Charles turned around and left the hotel. At first, he checked the saloon in this town, before leaving and heading for Blackwater. Sure enough, Maple was hitched outside the saloon there. He pat her side as he wandered into the building. Evie was at the bar, so drunk she didn’t realize that there were two different men trying to come onto her. She didn’t even realize Charles had come in, either. He quickly went over to her when the men began leading her toward the back.

Evie POV

“Evie!”

The two men who said they were going to lead me elsewhere and I turned around to look at who had called my name. Charles looked exhausted. What was that about?

“What?” I asked.  
“Let her go before I punch you two in the throat,” he muttered.

Both the men backed off. Not everyone wanted to try and fight off a big angry guy inside of a saloon. I grabbed onto the bar for support. It seemed I was drunker than I realized. Those two guys had told me they were going to take me to get a room so I could rest. I made it known to Charles.

“Pretty sure they had other ideas on their mind,” he replied.  
“What are you doing here?” I mumbled into the new glass of whiskey.  
He took it from me and set it down. “I’m bringing you home. You know you’re not allowed to leave alone.”  
“Am I _ever_ gonna be allowed to leave alone?”  
“Not if you’re gonna do this. You could have had a drink in camp.”  
“But here I can have as much as I want.”  
Charles looked at the bartender. “Switch her to water.” He shook his head with a sigh. “Why did you leave?”  
“I dunno.”

I rested my head down on the bar, feeling like I was going to vomit. That was a lie; I knew why I left. I knew I could trust Charles, but that was the problem. Charles willingly listened to me when I was sad, angry, scared, and whatever else. How much was too much?

“Who sent you?” I groaned, lifting my head.  
“Dutch. Sort of.”  
“Why?”  
“He’s worried, same as Karen and Mary Beth.”  
“Sure.”

I burst out crying. What a disappointment I was -- to Cornelius, to Father O’Malley, to everyone. I left alone to get drunk because there was no way I could get drunk in camp. Susan would have my head. It wasn’t the best idea I had ever had, but it wasn’t something that would get me killed. Maple would have gotten me back to camp just fine.

“What?” Charles asked.  
“No one loves me,” I sobbed.  
“Dutch does.”  
“If he does, why isn’t _he_ here trying to bring me home? Because he has to _work_? He can work _any_ time.”

I looked at the door of the saloon as Sean and Javier came in. They stopped by Charles and I.

“See, when _I_ go drinkin’ these days, it ain’t right,” Sean said. “But when _she_ does--”  
“Shut up,” Javier muttered.  
“What are you two doing here?” Charles asked.  
“Dutch wanted us to check the saloons for her.”  
“See?” I sobbed. “_See_?”  
“She hit her maid over the head,” Sean mentioned. “Don’t think it sat right with her.”  
“It sits with me just fine, Sean. What doesn’t sit right with me is why you three are here and not--”  
“That’s enough,” Charles sighed. “One of you tie her horse to yours; I’ll take her home.”

Charles had to drag me outside and force me to sit on top of his horse. He had to make sure I was actually holding onto him, and tight enough that I wouldn’t actually fall off the back. At least it wasn’t a long ride back to camp. Karen ran over to try and help me down, but I ended up smacking her hands away. I knew all she wanted to do was help me, but I wasn’t having it. Charles shook his head at her before helping me over to Dutch’s tent, who was inside after all.

“She’s very out of it,” Charles told him.  
“I’m in it just fine!” I shouted.  
“Keep your voice down,” Dutch scolded, waving Charles off.  
“No, _you_ keep your voice down!”  
“I ain’t the one screaming.”  
“You wanna tell me why the hell you sent three others to find me instead of looking for me yourself?! It took, what, four hours for _anyone_ to find me! Someone else isn’t in camp and everyone realizes it right away! No, I know why you didn’t come looking for me yourself!”  
“Tell me, then.”  
“You don’t love me; you never did and you never will! I’m just a convenience! No wonder Miss O’Shea left you!”  
“She’s losin’ her fucking mind,” I heard Micah snort.  
“Shut up before I punch you again! You know what? I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’m not Annabel! I’m--”  
“Okay, that’s enough,” Hosea demanded, grabbing me from Dutch’s tent.  
“Don’t you think that I don’t know about Abigail or Susan or Karen, either! You can say I’m part of the family now all you goddamn want, but it only changed to that _after_ Colm! ‘She should have kept her legs closed and her petticoat down!’ Because it only takes one person to make a kid these days, does it?! Dutch van der Linde could never do anything wrong!”

The whole time Hosea was dragging me away from Dutch’s tent to take me elsewhere to calm me down, he had tried to cover my mouth so I couldn’t keep screaming. I kept swatting his hand away at the last second.

“She don’t mean it,” he tried to assure everyone as he shoved me into one of the other tents.  
“Like hell I don’t!”  
“Look, just...calm down.”  
***

I ended up passing out in Sean’s tent, with no memory whatsoever of what had happened earlier on in the day. Something bad must have happened because Karen and Abigail, for once in a long while, weren’t fretting over me. And why else would I have been in Sean’s tent? I wandered over to Dutch’s tent, looking around nervously. Dutch seemed content enough.

“Are you calmed down yet?” he asked, not looking up from his book.  
“‘Calmed down’?” I mumbled. “What happened?”  
“What’s the last thing you remember?”  
“Leaving camp to go find Arthur and--”  
He looked up, appearing to be slightly confused. “To find Arthur?”  
“Yes. I heard he went hunting, so I--”  
“How did you go from wanting to find Arthur to the saloon in Blackwater?”

I thought hard for a few seconds. I was starting to remember that I had found Arthur and when I asked if I could help him, he just immediately said no and...

“No one wants me around,” I mumbled.  
“He said that?” Dutch asked. “To you?”

I nodded. Thinking back on it, perhaps it wasn’t what Arthur had meant. But with everything that had happened, from the O’Driscolls to Bonnie to Cornelius showing up, my mind felt like it was melting.

“Charles, Sean, and Javier found you in the Blackwater saloon,” Dutch explained. “You came back and started screaming.”  
“Please tell me it was nonsense,” I pleaded. “Please?”  
“It wasn’t. I talked to everyone when you passed out, but Abigail and Karen are sour. You can try apologizing, but it ain’t gonna work the way you want it to.”  
“I said some things I wasn’t supposed to, didn’t I?”  
“Colm told you about Annabel, didn’t he?”  
“Yes...”  
“Don’t mention her again. Go work on something.”

I went over to where Susan was; without a word, she handed me a washing bin and board and pointed at a pile of laundry that needed to be done. At least washing would get my mind off of being upset, at least for a little while. It couldn’t have been the first time someone drunkenly screamed a lot in the camp, right? Someone had to have, at some point, screamed worse things. Hurtful things. At least now I knew what would happen if I overdid it with drinking. My head was hurting.

“Ain’t so tough, now, are ya?” Micah said, walking by me.  
“I never said I was, Micah,” I replied.

He kicked the back of my boots to make me look at him. I was so annoyed that I had done what I did, so what was looking at him going to do? It was not as if I was able to hit him again, and he knew that, too.

“What do you want?” I asked with a sigh.  
“Nothin’,” he said, his voice dripping with lies. “When are ya gonna drink again? You’re fun when you’re drunk.”  
“Okay, Micah.”  
“What? Just ‘okay’?”  
“Leave her alone, Mister Bell,” Susan scolded. “She’s gone through enough and you ain’t helpin’.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry that the princess messed up.”

Micah left and I went back to washing.

“I’m sorry, Miss Grimshaw,” I mumbled as I worked. “I don’t know everything I said, but if I said anything to--”  
“Ain’t anythin’ I can’t handle,” Susan said. “We’re fine. You wanna make it up to Abigail and Karen, you’re gonna have to give ‘em more than an apology.”  
“I understand. Um...”

I stopped working for a moment to think. Once or twice I had found Karen sipping back whiskey, and I saw her regularly smoking cigarettes. I didn’t really know what Abigail liked; I’d given her one of my dresses once and she seemed thankful. I wasn’t able to get rid of any of my other dresses, though, and the ones I had bought for when I was pregnant were too big for either of us.

“You got any ideas?” Susan asked.  
“I do.”  
“Well, good. Now get back to work.”

It was going to have to wait until the next day since it was getting a bit late for shops to still be open. I quickly finished up the washing and hung everything up. Arthur wandered over as I was doing so. I frowned at the sight of him.

“Have you come to tell me no one wants me around again?” I asked bitterly.  
“Look, that ain’t what I meant,” he explained. “Just that--”  
“Then what did you mean? You specifically said that no one wants me around.” I hung up one of Abigail’s dresses. “If you meant you didn’t want me to be around, you should have said so.”  
“I ain’t good with words.”  
“Not good with women, either, it seems.”  
“I came over here to say that I’m sorry, so can I just do it and we can get it over with?”  
“_Are_ you sorry, Arthur?” I poked my head out around the dress to look at him. “Really?”  
“I am.”  
“Then fine. Now please leave me alone. You are making my headache worse.”  
Arthur muttered to himself as he walked away. “Stubborn...”

It was impulsive of me to go and try and hunt with him. I was just so tired of being stuck in the camp that I thought it would be fine if I went and found him and stayed with him. I should have gone right back to camp when he said “no”, but hearing that no one wanted me around was too much. I hated hitting Beth over the head; she had always been so good to me, but I didn’t want Sean or Javier to get caught, too. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear Bonnie screaming at me or I could feel an O’Driscolls hands on me. Every time I got changed I was reminded that I was gutted. Those thoughts had just flooded to me all at once when Arthur told me no one wanted me around and I couldn’t handle it.

“You okay?” Javier asked, holding a tin cup out to me.  
“I will be,” I sighed. “What is that?”  
“Coffee. It’ll help with your headache.”  
“Oh... Thank you, Javier.” I took the cup from him. “And for helping find me. I didn’t...say anything, did I?”  
“Not to me or Sean. We got back to camp and heard about all the screaming you did. Then Sean found you in his tent.”  
“I don’t even know how I got there.”  
“Hosea put you there.”  
“I said some...pretty terrible things, from the sound of it.”  
“Nobody goes and gets drunk the way you did for no reason.”

He walked away and I finished putting up the laundry. Once she noticed I was done the laundry, Susan handed me a pile of socks that needed darning. I didn’t know if she had lied to me when she said we were okay or if she was just trying to keep me busy, but either way I went and sat on a tree stump and got to work on the socks. It was going to be so dark out by the time I even finished just a handful of the things, but if she wanted me to get them done then I would get them done.

“You’re tryin’ too hard,” Dutch mentioned.  
“Too hard at what?” I asked quietly.  
“If Miss Grimshaw didn’t like you, she would have yelled at you, too.”

I sighed and set down the sock I was holding in my lap. If I didn’t try hard as I always did, then that would seem as if I was slacking.

“I’m sorry, Dutch.” I picked the sock back up and continued. “Whatever else I said, I’m sorry.”  
“Oh, I’ve had worse,” he admitted. “You should have heard the shit Miss O’Shea was screamin’ when she left.”  
“I’m still sorry.”  
“Are you ready to tell me what else happened with Colm?”  
“Not around here.”  
“What’s the problem now?”  
“I just don’t want Micah hearing the stuff I need to tell you, Dutch. Is that too much to ask?”  
***

After getting dragged from the Blackwater saloon, Dutch only took me back to talk. I was strictly water at this point on the account that I still had a headache from how much I drank earlier in the day. The things I told Charles I told to Dutch, but I still left out the bit about not being able to answer Bonnie’s question. I still didn’t know if I loved him. Had I fallen for his stories or had I fallen for him? I was so confused. Micah calling me princess only ever reminded me of being tied to the table in the cabin. He was no help, but he was such a cretin that he didn’t care. I would rather Micah take to calling me Tessa. If he wouldn’t call me Evie or Evangeline, then I would cope with Tessa.

“I really am sorry,” I said.  
“For what this time?” Dutch replied, taking a puff of his cigar.  
“The...baby...”  
“There was nothing you could do and there sure as hell ain’t anything you can do about it now.”  
“Dutch.”  
“One day, we’ll be able to get Colm for everything he’s done. Right now, we don’t even know where he’s at. If one of us is gonna outlive the other, it’s gonna be me. I know it don’t help when I tell you there’s nothing you can do, but it’s the truth. I don’t want you running off thinking you can do something as dumb as getting revenge. You run into a camp of as many people as he’s got, and with Bonnie there, you’re bound to get killed.”

He was right. There was no point in trying to kill Colm, at least not yet and definitely not on my own. If anyone understood my lust for killing him it had to be Dutch. I let him know that I was still sorry about the baby, even if he told me it wasn’t my fault. Whether it was my fault or not didn’t matter.

“Dutch, why isn’t Sean allowed to drink anymore?” I mumbled. "But other's are...?"  
“We’ve got a job coming up and I can’t have everyone drunk,” he admitted. “Everyone can drink after the job is done. The same goes for you, too.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_

“Abigail?” I said. “Abigail.”  
“What do you want now?” Abigail replied. “You here to make fun of me?”  
“No. I’m here to apologize. I asked Miss Grimshaw if I can take you into town to get something. I know a simple ‘I’m sorry’ won’t cut it.”

She thought for a moment, and then she nodded. Sean was already on top of Ennis waiting for us. Abigail got on the back of Maple and off we went to town. I didn’t know what she was expecting, but when we stopped in front of a finery I could tell by the look on her face that that wasn’t it. She mentioned she had never even stepped foot inside of one when we went inside.

“I should be gettin’ ready for the job but instead here I am takin’ two girls shoppin’,” Sean groaned. “Ain’t that just great...”  
“What are we here for?” Abigail wondered.  
“Anything you want,” I replied, giving Sean a side-eye. “If you want a custom item, we can do that, too.”  
“Does Dutch know?”  
“He knows, and he knows I’m not taking anything away from the camp. I still have plenty of money left over from when I sold my earrings and rings.”

Abigail picked up a scarf from a shelf and showed it to me. For a moment I didn’t know what she wanted me to do with it; I took it from her and she didn’t move. She was being modest, I realized. I sighed and walked around with her to see if she liked anything else. It took a while for her to realize that we weren’t leaving until she was completely satisfied. By the time Abigail was finished picking everything out that she wanted, my arms were full up of a new dress, a scarf, and new boots. Not quite what I was expecting her to get -- I expected more -- but she seemed happy enough with what she chose. As we walked back to the front where the counter was, I looked at a shelf that held an assortment of hats.

“What the hell do ya think you’re doin’?” Sean asked.

I had taken the hat he was wearing already off his head and set the one I had picked up on top of his head instead.

“Much better,” I said, handing the old one back to him.

The lady standing at the counter packed up Abigail’s things and we left the finery. Sean placed the package on Ennis’ back, and then the two of them followed me to the post office where Karen’s apology was waiting. I had asked Susan if she knew what Karen’s dress size was and she had managed to find out for me, and so I had ordered a new dress for her, too, along with quality whiskey and cigarettes.

“You could make it on your own,” Sean mentioned as we walked back to the horses.  
“Sean, I would run out of money sooner or later,” I replied.  
“Thank you, Evie,” Abigail said. “You didn’t have to--”  
“Miss Grimshaw and Dutch told me that ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it with you or Karen. I can’t remember what it is I said, but I know it was bad.”  
“The way you were screamin’ when me and Charles were lookin’ for ya was the loudest I’d heard anyone scream,” Sean admitted. “I’m surprised ya didn’t go and drink sooner.”

Abigail looked at me and I quickly looked away. She looked angry about something all of a sudden.

“Sean, would you mind standin’ outside the saloon while me and Evie talk?” she asked.  
“Oh, that is dirty,” Sean sighed. “Teasin’ me like that. So close to whiskey. I can’t wait till this job is done.”

I thought that perhaps she was still mad at me -- I really wouldn’t blame her. But it wasn’t me she was angry with, not even Sean. We sat at the front of the saloon at the window so Sean could at least keep an eye on us. Turned out she was angry with Dutch and how he was dealing with my aftermath. She couldn’t remember the last time she caught us just sitting together while I did needlepoint and he read. The thing Abigail didn’t completely understand, either, was how he didn’t try and look for me himself. He’d let Charles volunteer to look for me, and then sent out Sean and Javier when he felt Charles was taking too long. Dutch hadn’t even gone to see how things were with whatever he was working on. Everyone had been fine with my screaming at him until I got to screaming about Abigail, Susan, and Karen.

“I know about the sack,” she murmured. “Everyone does.”  
“What did you end up doing with it?” I asked.  
“We found a patch of ground that weren’t too frozen over. Buried it. Reverend Swanson said some words.”  
“Thank you, Abigail.”  
“And everyone knows what Colm O’Driscoll lets his boys do but we weren’t thinkin’ all of ’em did it.”

I wanted to tell her that not all of them did things to me. I couldn’t remember the man’s name, now, and I was so upset about it. Just in the short moment he had spoken to me, I could tell he was a good person. I sighed and leaned forward on the table.

“Do you love him?” Abigail questioned.  
I looked at her. “Beg your pardon?”  
“Dutch. Do you love him? I want you to think real hard about everythin’ that’s happened.”  
“Abigail, I don’t think I can--”

She grasped my hands in hers to keep me from moving. It looked like she was serious in her questioning.

“I love John,” she said. “Even if he does stupid things or says things he don’t mean, I still love him. And I know that if I went missin’, like how you did, he wouldn’t stop ‘til he found me. He ain’t gonna send other people to look for me -- he’d ask ’em to help and to come with him.”  
“Where would I go, Abigail?” I sniffled. “Dutch is always talking about loyalty.”  
“Loyalty ain’t just about lovin’ someone. You’re better with words than I am. Explain to him. He’s still got your loyalty; you just don’t wanna be with him no more.”

I gave myself a moment to calm down before we left the saloon. If I was really going to go through with what Abigail suggested I do, I needed to get my own tent. I was quick about that, at least.

“Thanks,” Sean said suddenly on the way back to camp. “For the hat, I mean.”  
“You’re welcome.”

Back in camp, I quickly found Karen while she was washing dishes. It looked like she was going to abandon the dishes at the sight of me, that is until I held one of my hands in front of me.

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed. “I’m...sorry...”  
“I’m sure you are,” she snapped. “If you think--”

She looked at me, possibly realizing I was carrying a package. When she didn’t say anything further, I handed the package to her. Karen eyed me suspiciously as she sat down on a tree stump and opened it up. She looked at the dress and then up at me.

“This looks too nice,” she admitted, and then paused before smiling. “I love it; thank you. Kinda heavy for a dress, though.”  
“There’s something else underneath for you,” I said. “I thought that maybe if you didn’t like the dress, then you would like those, at least.”

Karen moved the dress out of the way. At first it seemed like she thought that the whiskey and cigarettes were just the kind that maybe the camp would have, but once she really got to look at them she looked excited. They were the brands Cornelius only ever drank and smoked, so I knew they were the best money could really buy.

“Thank you,” Karen said, gathering everything up to take to her tent.  
“You’re welcome.”

Just as I was walking over to Dutch’s tent, Javier stopped me.

“They’ve been arguing for an hour,” he told me. “You better leave it alone, whatever it is.”

There must have just been a pause in their argument, because I could suddenly hear Arthur and Dutch going back and forth about the job that they were planning. I still didn’t know anything about it; why would he tell me? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good if Arthur, by the sound of it, didn’t want to do it. I then heard Hosea say he wasn’t doing it, either, and this was just followed by Micah complaining about all the work he did to get the information for it.

“You overheard some people talkin’ about it,” Arthur said. “That ain’t a lot of work. It’s barely work.”  
“What’s the job, Javier?” I asked.  
“Some boat coming in a few days,” Javier replied. “Supposed to be carrying a lot of cash. Arthur and Hosea don’t wanna do it, though.”  
“If it’s carrying a lot of money, then wouldn’t there be a lot of security?”  
“Of course. Nothing we can’t handle, though.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. Micah had brought that information to Dutch. I didn’t like him in the first place, that much was obvious to everyone else, but I didn’t trust him, either. If Hosea and Arthur didn’t want to do a job, then it must have meant they didn’t like how it was feeling.

“Listen, you all can do the job,” Hosea suggested, “then Arthur and I will finish up here and join you in a few days’ time. No need to get all riled up.”  
“Fine,” Dutch replied. “We’ll still head for California.”

Javier let me go when Hosea, Arthur, and Micah left Dutch’s tent. It wasn’t a good time to tell Dutch I couldn’t be with him anymore. When I stepped into the tent, I could see he was stressed out.

“What?” he asked. “There’s a look about you.”  
“It’s... It’s nothing, Dutch,” I lied. “Javier and I just overheard all the arguing.”  
“Dammit!” Abigail shouted before dragging me out of the tent. “You tell him or _I_ will!”  
“It’s not a good time.”  
“It ain’t ever gonna be a good time, Evie!”  
Dutch stepped out of his tent. “What ain’t gonna be a good time?”  
“Abigail, don’t,” I pleaded quietly.

Abigail clenched her jaw for a moment and balled her hands into fists. After a few seconds, she swallowed her anger and turned to Dutch.

“We was just talkin’ about that job,” she said. “And how bad it would be if one of you boys got hurt.”  
“Don’t worry about that,” he replied. “We know what we’re doing. No need to cry about it, Evie.”

Abigail led me away from the tent to where she had left a pile of socks that needed to be darned. She didn’t look happy; not at all. Maybe I could tell Dutch when he had calmed down a bit from the arguing. I didn’t know if that would just make him mad again or not, though.

“I’m sorry, but you gotta tell him,” Abigail whispered.  
“I will,” I mumbled. “It would have happened already, but I didn’t want to make him angrier after that argument.”  
“Some things can’t be helped.”  
“Reverend Swanson!”

I caught him just as he was walking by. The Reverend turned to me; I could tell that he was neither drunk nor on morphine. I got up from where I was sitting and wandered up to him.

“Abigail told me about what you did when the sack was buried,” I said. “I just wanted to say thank you.”  
“It was the least I could do,” he replied. “Is something troubling you? You look upset.”  
“Well...yes... I don’t want to trouble anyone else with what’s going on in my mind.”  
“I know things are bad with Dutch right now, but maybe you should talk things through with him.”  
I thought for a few seconds. “Reverend, do you...think he loves me?”  
“It’s hard for me to say. That isn’t my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”  
“Okay. Um... Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

I returned to Abigail with a quiet sigh. Abigail told me what I suspected and the Reverend hadn’t been able to answer me. I couldn’t just go and ask just anyone what they thought. Charles was just returning to camp from hunting; I knew I could ask him, at least. Again, I left Abigail and wandered over to where Charles was hitching up his horse.

“Hey, Evie,” he said as he took the doe off the back of his horse.  
I placed my hand on his chest to keep him from walking. “I...need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with your answer.”  
“What is it?”  
“Do you...” I sighed. “Do you think Dutch loves me?”  
“You want my honest answer, right?”  
“Please.”

I followed him over to Pearson’s butcher table. After dropping the doe on the table, he turned to me. If anyone could be honest with me the most, it was Charles. At least, I hoped he knew he could be honest with me as much as I knew I could be honest with him.

“I don’t think he does,” he admitted. “But I could be wrong.”  
“Thank you, Charles.”  
“Evie--”  
“I’m not upset. Really, I’m not. I got the answer I was looking for. I just...need a second opinion now. Or a third...” I muttered the last bit.  
“Two ain’t enough?”  
“I just want to be extra sure before I make a decision.”

I walked off to find Sean sitting in his tent. I didn’t know about him, but something told me if I bothered asking Javier he would say something to Dutch or someone else before I could talk to Dutch myself. Sean looked at me as I sat down next to him.

“If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” I looked at him. “Please?”  
“An honest answer is gonna cost ya,” he replied.  
“Never mind.”  
“Hey, hey, hey!” He grabbed my hand when I began to stand up. “I was only jokin’ with ya. You want honest, I’ll give ya honest.”  
“Does it seem like Dutch loves me?”  
He snorted. “No. I mean, he might love ya somehow, but I think he loves your money more. When me and Charles were lookin’ for ya, I thought he should be out there lookin’ for ya, not us.”  
“Sean...”  
“That don’t mean we didn’t wanna find ya or nothin’. We both really wanted to find ya, but I’m sure you would’ve wanted to see Dutch open that door instead of us.”  
“I’m so thankful to you and Charles for finding me, Sean. Do you think in that moment I was concerned with whichever one of you found me? I probably would have been happy even if it was Micah who found me.”  
“Eh-h-h-h...”  
“Okay, maybe not. But still, Sean. Thank you.”

I got up and walked back over to Dutch’s tent. I contemplated closing the flaps again, as he had opened them back up when I had gone to darn socks with Abigail. Closing the flaps wouldn’t give us much privacy, anyway, especially if things got heated. I didn’t want to have to scream or cry, but if I had to I would. Maybe I should have taken a swig of whiskey from the Reverend’s bottle, wherever he kept it, to take some of the edge off.

“Dutch, I need to talk to you,” I huffed.  
“What is it this time?” he replied. “You haven’t been drinkin’ again.”  
“No, no, I haven’t.”  
“So then what do you want?”  
“There’s no easy way for me to say it, so...I can’t be with you anymore.”

Dutch looked at me, unimpressed. What, he didn’t believe me? Did he think I was feeble and wouldn’t go through with my words?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked. “I’m serious.”  
“I’m sure you are,” he said, closing his book and standing.  
“I’d prefer if you stayed over there.”  
“And I’d prefer if I could have some loyalty around here. God dammit, first they don’t wanna do the job and now you think it’s funny to do this?”  
“There’s nothing funny about it, Dutch.”  
“Where are you gonna go, then? You wouldn’t last out there on your own. Or are you plannin’ on hunting down the O’Driscolls to join _them_?”  
I raised my voice as loud as I could without yelling. “Dutch van der Linde, I don’t need to be with you like that to be loyal. Don’t you dare think for a moment I would go run to them.”

He really didn’t look anything but angry now. I knew I should have waited, but the longer I waited how harder would it have been? Abigail would have probably constantly hounded me about it until I had to do it through tears. Dutch grabbed my travelling trunk, still full of the jewellery Sean had filled it with, and held it out to me.

“It’s not about that, Dutch,” I told him. “It’s not about the money or the jewellery.”  
“Then what is it about?” he retorted. “You’ve been actin’ strange since you got back from--”  
“I hit Beth! Okay? She was always so nice to me! Those O’Driscolls I killed in town with Sean were different! They’re horrible people! And then the things with Colm and Bonnie and the rest of the O’Driscolls, and then finally Arthur telling me what he did -- how many people can say they’ve made it from Colm alive and then how many more can say they’re okay?! I am _not_ okay, Dutch, and you don’t even care! I thought maybe it would all just go away, but it won’t! I wish they would have just killed me! But even if I’m not okay and I could have chosen to run away for good, I didn’t. I’m loyal to you, Dutch, and don’t you even think that I’m not!”

I groaned, grabbed my crossbow, and turned on my heel. Nobody bothered to stop me when I got up on Maple and rode out of the camp. Well, everyone knew I was leaving, at least. I went to the clearing Charles and I usually went to. I sat there, leaning forward on Maple for a while. The anger had left me, that much I knew, though I was still a bit agitated. There was never any issue in my mind helping with funds. _Someone_ needed to pay for ammunition, thread, new cots if needed, even just simple items that people wanted, like...hair pomade. When I decided I was ready to go back, I shot a buck through the neck. Without Charles there to help me, I had to get it up on Maple by myself.

“Come...on...” I gasped, pulling it by its antlers.

With how deep the snow was, it definitely wasn’t helping. The other thing that didn’t help was that Sean managed to find me, but didn’t make himself known until I was falling on the ground repeatedly.

“Need a hand?” he asked.  
I looked at him, panting. “No!” I continued to pull on the antlers. “No, I’ve...got it...!”  
“If you say so.”

He leaned forward on Ennis, like he was just waiting for me to ask him for help. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove to myself or anyone else by attempting to get a buck up onto the back of Maple and return to camp on my own. I’d just struggle again trying to get the thing to Pearson’s butcher table. I finally gave up when I fell to the ground again.

“Sean,” I sniffled, “what’s wrong with me?”  
Sean hopped off Ennis and wandered over. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya, Evie.”  
“There has to be something wrong.”  
“You went through some bad shit.” He grabbed the antlers and started dragging it toward Maple. “That don’t mean there’s somethin’ wrong with ya. Things could be a lot worse, but they’re the worst right now. I ain’t gonna pretend I know what you’re feelin’, but...ya don’t smile much these days.” He lifted the buck up onto Maple’s back and tied it up. “Me and Arthur put up that tent of yours you bought.”  
“You didn’t have to.”  
“You also don’t talk posh no more. Better than any of us, though.”

I climbed on top of Maple with a quiet sigh and waited for him to mount Ennis.

“I’m still loyal, Sean,” I mumbled.  
“I know,” he replied. “Why would ya be out here feedin’ us and not runnin’ off, eh? Dutch just thinks you’re angry about somethin, just a heads up.”  
“Wonderful.”

When we got back to camp, Sean dragged the buck over to Pearson’s butcher table while I went over to Dutch’s tent to gather my clothes and my needlepoint.

“You done?” Dutch asked.  
“Am I done what?” I replied.  
“Actin’ like a fool.”  
“I’m done arguing with you and yelling at you.”  
“You need to start ignoring your impulsive tenancies.”  
“‘Impulsive tenancies’. Okay.” I picked up my things with a sigh. “If you need me, I’ll be over there.”

As I made my way over to my tent, Micah walked up to me and blocked the flaps. I exhaled sharply.

“What do you want this time?” I hissed.  
“So the princess is finally free, huh?” he teased. “No more damsel in distress?”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You gonna start lettin’ in a bunch of fellers into your sheets?”  
My skin immediately became hot despite it being freezing cold. “Micah Bell, I would sooner shoot my own eye out with my crossbow than let you into my sheets!”

I shoved him out of the way and disappeared inside my tent. Just thinking about Micah at all made my skin crawl and now thinking that he somehow wanted into my sheets made me feel dirtier than I already did. I thought that maybe he was joking, but how much of a cretin did someone have to be to make a joke like that to someone who went through the things I had?

“Micah, what the hell?” Abigail shouted. “Get lost! Go!” She came into my tent with a huff. “Are you alright?”  
“I think I’m going to be sick.”  
“You won’t be sick. Just try to relax, okay?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“Hey... Hey...” Sean mumbled as he staggered over to me.  
“Are you drunk again?” I asked. “You’re not supposed to drink.”  
“Who are you, me mum? Anyway, one more drink ‘til we pull a nice robbery off ain’t gonna kill no one!”  
“It’s...just money, right? No rich people or...innocent people?”  
“Innocent? No.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Rich people? Uh...I dunno... I can’t remember the job...”  
“I see why Dutch didn’t want you drinking.”

I didn’t know when the job was, but we were already starting to pack up the camp to head to California. I’d never been to California, but I knew it was warm, and warmth was going to be nice after being out in the snow for so long. Granted, I hadn’t even been in the snow for that long, but for someone who came fresh out of a hot state, it was too much. Then at least I would be able to wear my nice dresses without having to cover them up with my winter clothes. I couldn’t wait to see Karen and Abigail in their new dresses, either.

“You’re rich,” Sean stated, matter-of-factly.  
“Well, technically Daddy’s the one who’s rich...” I replied. “But...I guess..._technically_...”  
“You ever been robbed before? Nasty business, it is.”  
“No, Sean, I have never been robbed.”

Cornelius had been robbed quite a few times, but he never travelled with much money in the first place. He always carried valuable things with him just in case anything bad happened. He’d never been hurt, luckily, but with how much he travelled for work I was surprised he hadn’t ended up with a gunshot in his shoulder, at least. I still knew that he was in town and luckily enough Bonnie probably told the O’Driscolls to leave him alone. So he was going to be spared that nasty bit of the state we were in.

“If I wasn’t here, would you?” I wondered.  
“What?” Sean said. “No.” He unwrapped his arm from around my shoulder. “If I’d seen a pretty lady like you out on the trail, of course not.”  
“Alright. That’s...good to know...I suppose...”  
“Your dad, though...” He let out a chuckle. “If I’d met him on the road, that smug fucker would be gettin’ robbed right away. How does an ugly lizard like him make a pretty girl like you, eh?”

Sean had never seen Bonnie, had he? If he had, he would have had his answer. Then again, he was drunk and probably wouldn’t remember anyway. I doubted he was even going to remember the conversation we were having. I had just been minding my own business when I’d seen him staggering over to my tent. The only reason I was paying attention to how he was walking was because I didn’t want him to fall over. It looked like he was and I was ready to catch his arm if I had to.

I noticed something particular about Sean, really. He was unfiltered when he was sober, but he seemed to be even _more_ unfiltered when he was drunk. It wasn’t like I was the only girl in the camp he looked at, of course. He looked at Karen a lot when he was drinking, too. I preferred him sober -- he at least remembered our conversations. As I had noted before, he only ever called me pretty when he had been drinking. That was probably one of the only good things about him being drunk; no one ever called me pretty. Not even Dutch. To Dutch I was just “charming”, which I guessed was a compliment in and of itself. I would take being called pretty over charming any day, though.

“Away with you!” Karen huffed, waving Sean away as she walked over to me. “Us ladies are busy.”  
“And what a fine pair of ladies you are,” he slurred.  
“Shut up and go!”

Sean sighed and staggered off to his tent. I still watched him as he walked, though. He probably had more drinks in a week -- or even a _night_ \-- than I had in my whole life, even when I went and got drunk. Karen tugged on my arm so I would pay attention to her.

“He calls you pretty,” she mentioned, “and he only ever wants me when he’s like that.”  
“Karen--” I began.  
“Well, anyway, Miss Grimshaw said to get some rest. We’ll be packing up a lot of the big things tomorrow.”

Just as I was going to go back into my tent, Dutch walked over. The night before, I hadn’t even bothered sleeping in my tent. I didn’t bother sleeping at all. I just sat at the campfire all night darning socks. I had been exhausted all day, but I wasn’t going to admit to Dutch or anyone, really, that I couldn’t sleep. I’d gotten so used to sleeping with someone next to me that laying in a cot alone felt strange.

“You done avoiding me yet?” Dutch inquired.  
“I was about to continue,” I retorted.  
“Too tired to argue?”  
“I don’t want to in the first place.”  
“Well, Hosea was worried about you; clearly you didn’t sleep last night and knowing you I know you probably won’t sleep again.”  
“That’s comforting, Dutch.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm. “_Hosea_ was worried about me.”  
“Well, forgive me, but with how you’ve been acting you wouldn’t believe I’m worried about you, too.”  
“You know why I wouldn’t believe you. I meant what I said.”

I could see that he was trying to get a decent conversation out of me, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not how he wanted it, at least. I didn’t feel angry with him anymore, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere for what I could and couldn’t believe. It was coming from someone who could pretend to be whoever he wanted to be. He could make himself sound convincing. Though, why go through all the trouble just to keep someone like me? Why go through _any_ trouble, actually? Just as I was thinking of opening my mouth, Abigail wandered over.

“Sorry, Dutch, but I need to talk to Evie,” she said.  
“It can’t wait?” Dutch replied.  
“’Fraid not.”

Dutch walked off back to his tent and I turned to Abigail. She didn’t need to talk to me; she just wanted to get him away from me. I should have thanked her, but I didn’t. How many people did she know that would go back to someone they told they didn’t want to be with anymore?

“Go to sleep,” she told me.  
“I make no promises,” I muttered, disappearing into my tent.

I laid in my cot for what felt like hours, just contemplating what I should do. Dutch was right there, but I didn’t want to be fickle. I was only missing someone next to me as I slept. That was it. I sighed and got up, and left my tent. Charles was just being relieved from guard duty and was heading over to his tent. I looked around camp nervously as I wandered over to him.

“Hey, Evie,” he said. “You okay?”  
“This might sound strange, but, erm...could you...sleep in my tent tonight?”  
***

“Hey, princess.” Micah strolled over to me. “Saw Charles comin’ out of your tent this morning.”  
“Why are you so observant about what’s going on in my tent?” I snapped, shoving my bowl away.  
“Oh, was it not good, then?”  
“What are you talking about?”  
Micah leaned on the table. “You lettin’ the redskin into your sheets now?”

I didn’t care if he was taller and bigger than me; he was becoming too much for me. I grabbed his ear, hard, and stood up, dragged him over to a water barrel and shoved his head into it. Susan looked at us and then looked away before returning to the sock she was darning.

“Evie, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dutch asked, pulling me away from Micah.  
“What did it look like?” I replied.

It wasn’t even that long that Micah had his head dunked; only a few seconds. If he was going to get out of it himself, he easily could have. At least my nails had dug into his ear hard enough that I drew blood. I waved Dutch off and stormed to my tent. It didn’t take long for him to come in to talk to me. Even when I wanted to be alone, of course he felt it was fine to try and lecture me.

“Don’t you go telling me that it’s an exception, Dutch,” I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest. “I see the things that the other men and women can get away with; pointing guns at each other when tensions are high or punching each other.”  
“Fine,” he muttered. “But all that was because he made a comment about Charles?”  
“Why does he care about what goes on in my tent? It’s mine; not yours, not his, not Charles’, _mine_.”

Dutch then wore a confused expression on his face. I had outed myself, having assumed Micah had told him what he had seen. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide, though. Charles and I hadn’t done anything but sleep in the same cot, and he was already gone by the time I woke up.

“Not you, too,” I groaned.  
“You moved on quickly,” Dutch scoffed.  
“Hey!” I poked my index finger into his chest. “We did nothing; not that that’s any of your business, Dutch. I needed someone next to me so I could fall asleep. I _could_ have run back to you, but I am neither fickle nor feeble. Ask Charles if you don’t believe me. Now don’t you have a robbery to plan? Because I have laundry to do.”

I left my tent and walked over to where Karen was darning a sock. Just as I was sitting on the small box to start the laundry, Sean started to come over himself. I didn’t know how he was awake. From the way I heard him flop down onto his bed roll the night before, it seemed like he’d be out until noon, at least. He was wincing slightly, though. If he came out of that much drinking without a headache, that would have been shocking, to say the least.

“We’re working,” Karen sighed.  
“What? Too busy for me?” Sean teased.  
“I’m always too busy for you.”  
“One of you’s gotta love me.”  
“Is caring enough?” I asked.  
“What?”  
“What?”  
“Well, if you’re carin’ about me, you’re halfway there to lovin’ me, don’tcha think?”  
My lips twitched; I was trying so hard not to smile. “Maybe.”  
Karen reached over and slapped my shoulder. “Don’t you be encouraging this boy!”  
“It’s gonna be more than a ‘maybe’ someday!” Sean said as he walked away.

Susan was walking around the camp, making sure things were being packed where they needed to be. She was going to be upset that Karen and I were darning and doing laundry, respectfully, rather than helping put things away. At least she was slowly walking and yelling and not running and screaming. She probably couldn’t wait to get out of the snow, either.

“That boy just gets on my nerves,” Karen huffed. “If you want ’im, you can have ’im.”  
“You’re speaking about him like the men speak about us,” I replied.  
“Well, it’s only fair, ain’t it?”  
“Men aren’t pieces of meat. Have you ever looked at a slice of prime rib cut and thought to yourself, ‘My, my, isn’t that just a handsome piece of meat’?”  
Karen set the sock down in her lap. “Yes, Evie, I have. Mostly ’cause we don’t get it much. Well, not those words, but close.”  
“Oh. I’m...I’m sorry...”  
“Don’t be. Oh, no, here comes trouble.”

Susan had finally made it around the camp and was now storming over to us. I was ready receive an earful; at least it wouldn’t be another one of Dutch’s rants. Things were stressful around the camp; the air was tense and there was a lot riding on the job going well, and the snow was making people slower in packing everything up. I didn’t know how fast the wagons would be able to get pulled out, but I was hoping fast. The quicker we got out of the snow and into California, the better.

“What do you two think you’re doin’?” Susan snapped. “There’s packin’ to do!”  
“Abigail asked me to finish up the socks she didn’t get to do so she could go help pack,” Karen quickly replied.  
“Alright, then, what’s _your_ excuse?”  
“Um... Um... I assumed you can’t pack dirty laundry...?” I mumbled quietly.  
“Oh, Christ, just forget the laundry and the darning! Help pack up!”

She walked off again, leaving Karen and I to look at each other for a moment. After that moment was done, we got up and went to help with whatever we could. I poured out the water from the laundry basin and shoved it into a wagon. At least there were men to help with all the heavy lifting, but the camp still had much to be packed. There was no possible way everything could be packed up; we’d need a few more days, at least. Tents were going to stay up until the night before the day we were going to have to leave.

“Hey, Evie,” Charles said as he walked by me.  
“Hi,” I sighed, shoving a woven basket into a wagon.

He continued to walk away before turning around and walking back over. I was busy, so whatever he needed to say to me should have been important. Susan wouldn’t like it if I wasn’t working and I didn’t want to get an earful. I was shoving a chair into the wagon when he had come back to me, so at least if she looked over and saw us talking she wouldn’t be mad about it.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked.  
“I could be better,” I admitted. “Thank you for last night.”  
“No problem... Did you sleep okay?”  
“I did. I just could be better because Micah is...” I finished putting the chair in with a sigh. “Well, he’s _Micah_. Too busy paying attention to my life than his and being an all around...erm...cretin.”

I picked up another chair, this time a folding one, and put it in the wagon. It was the last chair to go in and that was that. I was done, at least, and so were the other ladies. It was just slightly after noon, now. I was a broken record -- I just wanted to leave and be in the warmth and be rid of the snow. Patience was needed, surely, and it wasn’t like anyone could just make the boat the men were robbing come any faster. Thinking about the job, though, and how Arthur and Hosea didn’t like it got me wondering.

“Charles, do you trust this job?” I asked.  
“There’s a risk in everything, Evie,” he replied. “Ain’t a life of an outlaw if there’s no danger sometimes.”  
“I know, I know...”  
“We should be okay. Don’t worry. In a few days, we should be heading to California.”

I swallowed hard as he pat my shoulder. It was the first time since joining Dutch that a big job was being pulled off. Going back to Arkansas for the rest of my jewellery was a tiny job in comparison. There would surely be security. If _that_ much money was being transported, there had to be.

“I’ll see you later, Charles,” I said. “I need to speak with Dutch.”

I made my way over to Dutch’s tent, where Micah was just walking out of.

“Princess,” he muttered.  
“Cretin,” I shot back. “Dutch, can we talk?”  
“What?”  
“The boat job you’re doing. Just...how much do you know about it?”

Dutch looked away from his book and at me. Just from the look on his face I could tell that he didn’t like that I had asked that question. I couldn’t have been the first person to ask him that question. Maybe the first _woman_ to ask it, but not the first _person_.

“Why?” he asked.  
“I’m just worried, that’s all.”  
“There’s no reason to be worried. Micah told me what we should be expecting. All should go according to plan.”  
“Micah?” I was almost able to roll my eyes back into my skull. “Micah told you about this job?”  
“Evie. You’re worryin’ too much.”  
“It’s not a crime to worry, Dutch. I still...care enough about you to worry if you’re gonna be okay or not.”  
“Does that mean you care about me, too?” Micah asked in a mocking tone.  
“Micah, I would care more about a sack of vermin than I would ever care about you. If anyone shoots you in the head on that boat, they would be doing the whole world a favour.”  
“Careful what you say, princess, you might be cryin’ over me tomorrow night if it happens.”  
“Yes. Crying with joy.”

I closed Dutch’s tent flaps, but that didn’t stop Micah from telling me that he’d still be able to hear us talking and vice versa. Folding my arms, I looked at Dutch. There was no love between us, but I at least cared about him. I didn’t resent him or anything like that, but I definitely didn’t love him. That much was clear to me now. I’d forgotten how he said he loved me one night in the saloon where we met up each week when I was still living with Cornelius. But that was one time and one time only.

“I’m sorry for everything I said, Dutch,” I sighed. “But it really doesn’t mean I don’t care.”  
“The caring isn’t a problem,” he said. “I can say it’s too much all I want, but I know you ain’t gonna stop just ’cause we had some arguments.”  
“I’ll be loyal as humanly possible. Please don’t doubt that.”  
He was quiet for a few seconds. “You know I meant it, don’t you? When I told you I loved you.”  
“Back then, maybe. It’s been nearly eight months since we first met, Dutch, and...you only said it the once.”  
“I’m not one to express with words, in case you haven’t noticed.”

I heard Susan calling for me, so I ended up leaving in a huff. She didn’t want anything herself; Abigail had just gone to her because she couldn’t find me. The work I needed to do was done for the day and so I just went to go sit in my tent. I sat on my cot and worked on my needlepoint. Every now and again, I could hear either Karen or Abigail asking where I was, and I would have to shout at them that I was still fine and still in my tent. They should have just left it alone.

“Evie, get outta there!” Abigail said.  
“What?” I snapped, opening one of the flaps of my tent.  
“You’ve been in there all afternoon; you alright? I know you’re worried ’bout the job, but...”  
“But nothing. You know, when Dutch and I first met, he only ever really spoke about Arthur and Hosea. But now it’s just...‘Micah said this, Micah said that, Micah, Micah, Micah.’ He did speak about everyone else in stories and what went on that day he came to see me.”  
“I don’t know what it is about Mister Bell, but he’s a real piece of work. Why don’t you come eat with me and Jack?”

I shrugged and followed her over to where Pearson had prepared the stew. As usual, it really wasn’t that good. Hopefully in California I’d be able to head into a town and actually eat a decent meal again, at least once. Even the scraps Colm and Bonnie gave to me were better than the stews Pearson always managed to cook up. But, as the saying went, beggars can’t be choosers, and I chose to be there, and I was assuming everyone wanted to be there, too.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Evie,” Dutch said as he walked by us. “We get in, we get out, and we’ll be on our way to California in one or two days after that.”  
“Okay,” I mumbled.  
“Don’t you have any faith in me?”  
“It’s Micah I don’t have faith in, Dutch.”  
“I’m full,” Jack complained. “Can I go feed Maple a snack?”

Abigail and I agreed to let him go, and we were left at the fire alone. Since the tables were already packed into the wagons, we were meant to sit at the campfire on the fallen logs or on the tree trunks around the camp. At least there was some sort of warmth, but the sun was already down and it was still cold.

“You used to go to church, right?” Abigail wondered.  
“I did,” I said. “Every Sunday.”  
“That mean you believe in God?”

Not a lot of people enjoyed being asked that question. Some of the people at my church would have taken that as a non-believer trying to pick a fight with them. Others would shrug it off and merely say “yes”. Cornelius would go on a tangent about why God was so important. Before going with Dutch, my answer may have been as simple as “yes”. But at this point... I sighed and bit my lip for a few seconds.

“If you would have asked me five and a half months ago, I would have said yes,” I admitted. “My faith used to be quite big. Even if I sinned, I still believed, because God is supposed to forgive His children. After what happened at that cabin, how could I continue to believe? So...my answer is ‘no’. No, I don’t.”  
“But you have faith in Dutch?” Abigail said.  
“Dutch wasn’t the one I was screaming for to help me when I was being gutted, Abigail.”

All the colour drained from Abigail’s face. Even after I had been gutted, I still tried to pray for God to help and save me from what was happening. It didn’t help. None of it did. I was mercilessly mocked for actually believing that some invisible thing would come to my aid. It didn’t take long for me to stop, and for a while I thought that perhaps it was because I stopped praying and asking for help that the torture just continued. Nineteen years I believed in something that didn’t exist. I was made out to be a fool, hadn’t I? Father O’Malley always told us that if we didn’t have faith in God, we didn’t have anything.

“Excuse me,” I muttered as I stood up.

Charles was on guard duty, so I couldn’t ask him to come with me. Javier was already asleep in his tent. The only other one I trusted enough to come with me who wasn’t Dutch was Sean. I wandered over to him while he brushed Ennis.

“Evenin’ to ya, Evie,” he said. “Alright?”  
“I need you to come do something with me,” I told him. “It won’t take long, hopefully.”  
“What is it?”  
“Come with me to see my father.”

He looked at me like I had sprouted another head. No one wanted to be stuck in a room, or anywhere, with Cornelius. Especially not after he tried to sneak into the camp and proceeded to try and bribe everyone. I didn’t want to see my father, but I had to. Just a courtesy.

“Are ya goin’ crazy there, Evie?” Sean asked. “What the hell makes ya believe I wanna go see that smug English bastard?”  
“Sean...” I pleaded, “please do this for me?”  
“Is it important?”  
“If it wasn’t I wouldn’t be asking.”  
“Alright, fine. But if he starts talkin’ out his arse, I’m gonna punch ’im.”  
“Thank you. For coming with me, I mean. Not for threatening to punch him. Uh, well...maybe that, too.”

Sean and I rode out to where Charles was keeping guard. Hopefully we’d be able to get back before he was back in the camp; I didn’t want to take too long, both for Sean’s sanity and mine. We stopped next to Charles; I’d heard him mention that to track me down, he had gone to see my father first.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”  
“You know where my father is, don’t you?” I asked.  
He sighed. “Is this about the job tomorrow?”  
“Yes, Charles, it is.”  
“Your dad ain’t as innocent as he makes himself out to be, y’know,” Sean mentioned.  
I looked at him, annoyed. “He’s still my daddy and not as bad as Bonnie is. If it was Bonnie, I wouldn’t be asking where she was.”  
“The last I heard of him, he was heading to Blackwater,” Charles admitted. “I noticed his baggage was packed when he opened the door, too. Go.”  
“Thank you.”

Sean and I headed to Blackwater, and the whole way there he was just trying to get me to reconsider tell him anything. It wasn’t like I was going to tell Cornelius about the job. I’d been able to lie to him enough living at home that I knew I would be able to convince him of something else. If things _did_ go bad on that boat, I didn’t want him to be around for it. If there was going to be chaos should it follow off the boat, I didn’t want him to get caught up in it. I barely wanted Dutch and the others getting caught up in it much less my own father. There was great anxiety building up inside of me just entering Blackwater, and when we approached the hotel I felt as if I was going to vomit. I didn’t want us to leave on bad terms again.

“We can still go back,” Sean said when I grabbed his hand. “Not like I wanna be here, anyway.”  
I ignored him. “Excuse me, sir?”  
The man behind the desk turned and looked at me. “Evening. What can I do for you?”  
“Is, er, Cornelius Locke staying here?”  
“Everything okay, ma’am?”  
“Delivering my parents’ payment to him. Slippery, fellow, let me tell you.”  
“Of course. Room three.”

I dragged Sean away. When we turned the corner to find Cornelius’ room, I looked up at him for the first time. He looked... I didn’t know how to explain how he looked, but he didn’t look...normal.

“What the _hell_ was that?” he asked quietly.  
“What was what?” I replied.  
“_That_. Your voice. It’s English.”  
“Sean, I am a woman from London coming to tour this beautiful country.”  
“Stop that voice.”

I smirked at him and continued on down the hallway to room three. My knock was recognizable by almost everyone who grew accustomed to it. It wasn’t but a few seconds after I knocked that Cornelius opened the door.

“Tessa!” he crooned, pulling me into a tight hug. “My darling Tessa.”  
“Daddy, I need to talk to you,” I said, my voice slightly muffled by his chest.  
“Of course, come in. Uh...” He looked at Sean. “You, too, I suppose.”  
“Real charmer, aren’t ya?” Sean said sarcastically. “Ya had no choice to let me in or not.”  
“Do you have a gun with you?”  
“Ya best not try anythin’ and then ya won’t have to find out the hard way, English.”

Cornelius sat on the edge of the bed while I sat in the chair in the corner. Sean stood in the other corner; he did not look happy that he was there. Nothing was stopping him from going back to camp and leaving me alone. Well, maybe a punch to his face that would possibly be inevitable was stopping him from leaving.

“We can’t stay long,” I said. “Daddy, I need you to return to Arkansas immediately.”  
My father remained quiet for a moment. “How immediately?”  
“Before the morning.”  
“It’s because I came into the camp, isn’t it?”  
“Different reason, I promise. There are bad people about, and--”  
“Bad people? Worse than...him?” He pointed at Sean.  
“He’s a good person in comparison.”

There was a long moment of silence. A very long moment. Cornelius wasn’t pleased. All bad people, no matter if they just stole from people or murdered people for fun, were bad people to him. Bad people to him didn’t mean those who had sex before marriage or cussed or any of those smaller things. Those kinds of things didn’t hurt others. Bonnie was the very thing he hated, but somehow he still loved her; I knew that much.

“Bad people like your mother?” Cornelius asked.  
“Yes,” I said.  
“She didn’t...really allow those things to happen to you, did she?”  
“Father, I don’t want to talk about that. I came to ask you to return home. They catch wind that you’re here and that you’re rich, they will harm you.”  
“Tessa, you know I’m only here because you are.”  
“Oh, so she gets the stubborn from _you_,” Sean mentioned. “Great. Why can’t ya just listen to her and go?”  
“Daddy, really. I need you to go,” I begged.  
“I’m not returning to Arkansas without you," Cornelius replied. "I said it before, darling, and I will say it again -- you’re nothing like those people.”

I looked at him and then at Sean. There was no reasoning with Cornelius. I knew he would put up a fight. Once he made up his mind, it was essentially impossible to even consider changing his mind. But I was his daughter and I was one of the things that made him change his mind or not. I remembered that, when I was a child, if I was too sick to attend church, then he wouldn’t attend church -- even though he was so devout. If I couldn’t eat something someone offered, then he wouldn’t eat, either. Small things or big things, I was always the one thing that changed his mind. Now, if I wasn’t going to be in Arkansas, he wasn’t going to be in Arkansas.

“You were a pageant queen, Tessie,” Cornelius reminded me. “Even if you have lied, run away, and...participated in other sinful activities, people will still love you. Declan said he would wait, even.”  
“It would be better for you to return to Arkansas and allow everyone to believe that I’m dead,” I told him. “You so clearly remember what happened to me. No one would want me now.”  
“Darling, you are still a good pers--”  
“I killed some people. You do not need to know all the details, but I did it because I _had to_.”

My father’s expression changed quickly from caring to horrified. Whether he believed me or not, it had happened. Of course, it was in self-defence and Sean would have gotten hurt, or worse, if I hadn’t done anything. I could see in his eyes that he was contemplating what to do next. There was no way he could ever think that I, his precious daughter, could ever harm another human being that badly. No matter how it was spun, it was still murder. Those O’Driscolls were still people, but they were horrible people working for an even more horrible man.

“You can still be saved,” Cornelius breathed.  
“Oh, _Jesus_,” Sean groaned.  
“He didn’t help when I needed Him to,” I said quietly. “Eleven days, Father, in the middle of nowhere, in a cabin. I prayed as often as I could, as hard as I could, and for what? Nothing. God didn’t send Sean and Charles to help me; Dutch did. God wasn’t there when I was being gutted and He wasn’t there when they put their hands on me, and He wasn’t there when Bonnie was beating me.”  
“Tessa...” Cornelius covered his mouth in shock. “Tessa, I’m...”  
“Please, go home. And if you will not return home, at least just leave Blackwater. I already lost my baby to bad people; I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Sean folded his arms across his chest, almost like he was _daring_ Cornelius to do something stupid or say something stupid. I knew the look on my father’s face, though. He was shaken and I had managed to get him to just _consider_. At this point, I didn’t care if he went home to Arkansas; I didn’t care if he went to Alabama; I didn’t even care if he just said “goodbye” to America and decided to go to Canada or Mexico or hop on a boat and return to Europe.

“Alright,” Cornelius sighed, standing. “I will leave Blackwater.”  
“Will you be returning home?” I asked.  
“No. I do have some clients down this way, so I will go to Strawberry and stay there for a while.”  
“Okay, good. Thank you.” I stood up and hugged him tightly. “Leave tonight. Please? Right after we leave.”  
“Of course. You have my word.”

He gave me a squeeze before letting me go. I grabbed Sean’s arm and led him down the hallway of the hotel. That took longer than I wanted it to, but it had to be done. I just wanted to return to camp and I was sure Sean wanted to as well. We found our horses and mounted up.

“Alright?” he asked when we were outside the town.  
“I’m...something...I suppose,” I replied.  
“You that worried about the job?”  
“Yes, Sean. As I have stated before. If something happens and a gunfight with lawmen happens, I am not going to let Daddy get shot by anyone.”  
“Dutch says it’ll be fine.”  
“I don’t care what Dutch says about the job; I care about what Micah says. I know I haven’t been with all of you for very long, but I’ve known Dutch longer than Micah’s been with you. I’ve come to learn that when Dutch says it’s going to be okay, it’s really going to be okay. But you throw someone like _Micah_ into the mix... Obviously all of you know Dutch even better than me and you all trust him for a good reason, but...but...”  
“I don’t trust a fuckin’ thing that greasy arsehole says, Evie; don’t think that I do. I’m followin’ Dutch, not _him_. We’re all followin’ Dutch.”  
“I’m sorry, Sean.”  
“You’re not the first to worry.”

I left it at that and we rode back to camp in silence. It hurt that I had to tell my father just how much I asked for help from a God that never showed up. I hated the look on his face. When I had yelled at him in camp, I had meant it when I said that blood meant nothing. I still meant it. I was related to a monster who I didn’t want to be related to. But on the other hand, I wanted to be related to my father. In the end, he understood why I needed to be with who I was with. He was a kind man, though very stubborn and judgmental. But he wasn’t bad. Even when I had screamed at him and lied to him and ran away, he still loved me.

“Okay?” Charles asked as Sean and I rode into camp.  
“He’s leaving,” I replied.

I hitched Maple up and pat her side. She was going to be glad to be out of the snow soon, possibly even more than me. The snow agitated her to no end. I was going to have to have her shoes either checked or changed when I could. I jumped down off of her and gave her an apple. As I turned around to head to my tent, I realized I was going to need someone to stay with me. One more night only and then hopefully I could sleep alone. Charles was on guard duty and Sean was just brushing Ennis.

“Sean, when you’re done will you spend the night in my tent?” I asked.  
“You finally realize you love me, then?” he teased.  
“What? I... Sean, I just...need you to sleep next to me...”  
“Sure. But one of these days...”

I headed to my tent and put my needlepoint away. Sean quickly finished brushing Ennis; he was outside my tent before I could even reach for my lantern to switch it off. Either he was a little too eager or he was just as tired as I was and wanted to sleep.

“That father of yours a real pain in the arse,” he noted as he sat on the edge of the cot.  
“He can be,” I mumbled. “Thank you for coming with me.”  
“It’s nothin’.”  
“I’m nothing if not appreciative.” I quickly kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Sean.”  
He chuckled. “’Night.”  
***

In the morning, I woke up to Dutch asking if anyone had seen Sean. I rubbed my eyes and realized that Sean was still passed out next to me. It didn’t occur to me right away that he was asking for Sean because it was the day the job was going to be done. I ended up trying to go back to sleep, but it got to the point that Dutch had to start shouting. That’s when I really woke up and realized what he was so panicked about.

“Oh...” I mumbled, shaking Sean. “Wake up... Dutch is looking for you...”  
“What...?” He lifted his head. “Somethin’ wrong?”  
“The job... Dutch is looking for you...”  
“Shit.”

Sean quickly got up and left my tent. Well, there was no use in trying to get back to sleep myself. I trudged out of my tent to find coffee. I didn’t drink it to wake up, ever, but my awakening had been so rude that I needed _something_ to help me get through the morning. The sun was just starting to come up, too. From the look and sound of things, Dutch was going over everything again before they did the job. It was still early morning and from what I understood, it wasn’t until about the afternoon. It couldn’t hurt to be so prepared their ears would bleed, I supposed. I knew they were going to have to leave late morning to be able to get into whatever positions were needed for raiding a boat.

“You gonna worry about me when I’m gone?” Micah asked once they were finished.  
“Yes, I’ll worry,” I replied. “Worried if you’ll continue to disgrace us all with your existence.”  
“You love me.”  
“I would sooner return to Arkansas and marry Declan than ever love you, you disgusting cretin.”  
“Who the hell is Declan? A _normal_ cretin?”  
“None of your business. Don’t you have a knife to sharpen so hopefully you can trip and stab yourself through the throat? Leave me alone, Micah.”  
“Ooh, touchy. Scared your lovers ain’t gonna return?”

I looked at him, still half asleep. Most of the things that came out of Micah’s mouth I had an immediate retort for. In this situation, I had no idea what he was even talking about because I was so tired. What did he mean “lovers”? What was he talking about? Did someone say something and a rumour just decided to be spread about camp?

“Huh?” I blurted out.  
“Charles, Sean, and Javier,” Micah replied. “Your lovers. You know, the redskin, the Irish, and the greaser.”

The coffee didn’t wake me up but his comment certainly had. I didn’t care about the “lovers” bit, but the names. _The names_.

“What?!” I shouted.  
“Aw, was it meant to be a secret?” he fake pouted.

Even if the coffee wasn’t even slightly warm anymore, I threw the remaining contents of the tin cup at Micah.

“Watch your mouth!” I barked, punching him in the face.

Micah wasn’t helping my feelings on the job; he was just making me worse. I was just worried before, but now I was angry at him. He wanted me to be riled up so I wouldn’t relax while they were all gone. If I had the energy to do more than punch him, I would have. But I couldn’t because, other than no energy, Susan ran over and pulled me away from Micah.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, girl?” she snapped. “A big job today and you think it’s wise to do this kind of shit?!”  
“He started it,” I muttered.  
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who started it; I’m finishin’ it! Mister Bell, go and be somewhere that ain’t here and get cleaned up.”  
“Whatever you say, Miss Grimshaw,” Micah said, walking away.  
“_You_, just go make sure everyone’s horses are fine.”

I didn’t bother arguing. I didn’t know what Susan wanted me to do, exactly, but I stood by the horses that would be going out to the job for a few minutes each. I’d look for their brushes in the saddlebags, brush them for a few minutes, and then continue on to the next horse. There wasn’t much to do with them, really. Someone had already put hay bales and water out for them to eat and drink. If she sent me to care for the horses just to calm me down some, it was working slightly. I was still on edge about the job and upset about the names, but I was feeling a bit better. It got to the point that I was even brushing horses that weren’t going out because I was so distracted by them.

“You should go do some of the other chores,” Dutch mentioned.  
“Beg your pardon?” I asked.  
“We’re headin’ out here in a minute and you need to distract yourself from the worrying you’re doing.”  
“I guess you’re right. Just...at least _try_ to be careful, okay?”

Dutch pat my shoulder before wandering over to The Count. I didn’t know what chores could be done that would last me long enough until everyone got back. Nobody even knew how long they would be gone for but they knew it would be at least quite a few hours. I could probably get through all the socks that needed darning and if they still weren’t back get to the dishes, or vice versa.

“We’ll be okay,” Charles assured me, having led his horse to me. “We’re gonna come back to you.”  
“Could you leave Micah there?” I asked quietly.  
“If only.”  
“Charles, could I-- Well, um... Can I... I don’t know how to ask you...”

Charles pulled me in a one-armed hug. At least he knew what I was asking for even though I hadn’t managed to get it out of my mouth. I squeezed him tightly just before he had to pull away and mount his horse. I quickly scurried over to where Javier was mounting up.

“Be safe, okay?” I said.  
“Always,” he replied. “I ain’t one of the ones you gotta worry about, _amiga_. When we get back, maybe me and you can have a drink together, huh?”  
“Sure, Javier.”

Sean was already mounted by the time I got to him. It looked like he was thinking long and hard about something but then I showed up and he got distracted by me.

“I’ll be fine,” he said before I could say anything.  
“If you say so, Sean,” I sighed.  
“I do. I do say so. Take this.” He took the hat I bought him off and handed it to me. “Don’t wanna go losin’ it if something bad happens.”  
“Sean Macguire, don’t say things like that to me! Or I’ll... Or I’ll...” I let out a huff.  
“I know you’ll love me eventually, I do. Already halfway there, remember?”  
“Don’t I get a ‘goodbye’?” Micah pretend pouted.  
“Goodbye,” I said flatly. “I hope you get eaten by a shark or something or whatever is in the water.”  
“Oh, fuck off, Micah, why don’t ya?” Sean snapped.  
“I’ll see you when you get back.”  
“’Course.”

I walked off toward the other side of camp where darned socks were waiting. The other ladies were already working on them; Abigail looked as nervous as I felt. She had John going out, after all. As much as she argued with him, I knew she loved him.

“They’ll all be fine,” Tilly said reassuringly. “They usually are.”

With all us ladies, including Susan, darning the socks, it was done rather quickly. I didn’t know what the other ladies were going to do, but as soon as I dropped the last sock I had I immediately ran for the basin for the dishes. Pearson still had to cook for another one or two days, and so most of his things weren’t packed up just yet. As long as there were people to feed, there was just going to be more and more dishes. Reverend Swanson walked by me a few times before coming to sit next to me. I was guessing it was one of his “good days”, when he fought against the urge to have a shot of morphine or a bottle or two of whiskey.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.  
“A lot,” I admitted.  
“Sean said you saw your father.”  
“Briefly. I told him to leave. That’s all. Nothing else.”  
“Evangeline...those boys will be okay.”  
“I won’t know that for sure until they come back. None of us do. I’m worried. I’m allowed to be worried, aren’t I?”  
“Of course you’re allowed. But maybe you’re confusing ‘worried’ with ‘scared’?”

He had a point. And it was a _good_ point. I wasn’t worried that something bad would happen; I was scared that something would happen. I was scared that no one would come back, scared that no one would know if we should leave or not. Being worried shouldn’t have made me feel like I was going to vomit up my stomach, that was for certain. If it was only worry, I wouldn’t have been constantly, _constantly,_ trying to tell whomever that I was worried. Perhaps I was too scared to admit that I was, well, _too scared_. Plan or no, thinking that Dutch couldn’t come back was scary.

“I am,” I murmured. “It’s scary, Reverend.”  
“It is,” Swanson replied. “There’s no way to get around it. Ignoring it won’t help, because it’ll still be there when the chore is done.”  
“You’re right. Things could go perfectly or things could go very wrong; I know that. And I know that Dutch has been doing this kind of thing for, well...probably longer than I’ve even been alive...”  
“Sometimes, all you need to do is wait.”

Reverend Swanson got up and went to talk to the other girls. I continued to do the dishes, but not as hastily. No one was badgering anyone about anything. Karen clearly hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was worried, but I had noticed her hands shaking when darning her sock pile. Abigail was obvious. I wasn’t too sure about Mary Beth or Tilly, though, and Susan had mentioned once before that she was used to these kinds of things long ago. She was probably an expert at hiding worry by this point in her life.

It was nearing late afternoon when Arthur came bounding into the camp, but he didn’t look happy. He didn’t even get off the horse he was riding. Abigail and I exchanged glances. Arthur was supposed to be off with Hosea; why was he even back at the camp? Nothing had happened to Hosea, had it?

“You all got five minutes to pack what you can and then we gotta leave,” he said loudly.  
“Mister Morgan,” Susan said, storming over to him, “_what_ is going on? Why in the hell are you--”  
“We gotta meet up with Dutch and we only got five minutes, so just get packin’!”

Abigail, Karen, and I began tearing down tents and packing them up as fast as we could. Pearson got his wagon and most of his things packed away quickly. Abigail got Jack into one of the empty wagons when the five minutes was up. I wanted to make sure that nothing important was left behind, but Arthur was yelling at me that we needed to go. I quickly grabbed my parasol and mounted Maple. There was a reason that Arthur had come in yelling; meeting up with Dutch, it was rather obvious that some of the boys were shaken up. Hosea was there, at least. Though, looking around...

“Wh... Where’s Sean?” I asked. “And--And Mac?”

Charles took over the wagon I was riding next to. He wasn’t going to answer me. _No one_ was going to answer me, not unless I persisted. Not unless anyone else persisted.

“Good question,” Arthur said. “Where are they?”  
“We can talk about it later,” Dutch replied.

His voice was shaking, most likely from whatever had happened that was making us leave sooner and quicker than expected. I looked at Charles.

“Let’s just focus on getting the hell away from Blackwater,” he said before I could ask again.

I knew I had a reason to be scared.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

I’d been expecting California perhaps a bit too much. We were stuck somewhere in the mountains, surrounded by cold wind and snow. It was May, for goodness’ sake, why did it have to be so snowy and cold? I’d always heard the mountains were full of it; I didn’t think it would be that bad. Turned out it _was_ that bad. We had to stay put and wait for some of the snow to melt, and who knew when _that_ would be? There were cabins and they weren’t too bad, at least. They were still freezing on the inside, but they kept us all safe from the cold wind. We were only there for a day and I already felt the need to complain. There were other things to complain about, though, especially for Abigail.

“They better bring him back in one piece,” she shivered.  
“He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Hosea told her.  
“If he was fine, he would’ve come back on his own.”  
“Mama, I’m hungry,” Jack groaned.  
“Evie, would you stop your pacing?” Hosea asked.

I shook my head. The pacing was keeping my mind off the cold and the fact my fingers felt like they were going to fall off. Even expensive finery gloves weren’t doing a good job in the mountains. They weren’t meant for the extreme cold. At least my boots and coat were doing their jobs. The creaking of the floorboards must have been driving Hosea and the others crazy, but at least I wasn’t crying. Three whole days I spent crying and I was worn out by the time we found the mining town. One girl from the camp I had only ever spoken a handful of times to didn’t make it too far into the mountains and Davey died right when we got to the town. No one had answered mine and Arthur’s question as to where Sean and Mac were. Well, Arthur was out looking for John with Javier, so perhaps that would shed some light.

“You should go speak to Dutch,” Hosea suggested. “See how he’s doing.”  
“_Dutch_ is alive and well in that cabin over there someone thought it was humorous to stick me with him in,” I muttered. “I saw him this morning. I don’t need to know how he’s doing.”  
“Being angry at him over Sean won’t help matters.”  
“I’m more angry with Micah, and Micah is probably over there somewhere being the lurking cretin he is, Mister Matthews. Should have kept his mouth shut about that job that we were supposedly not supposed to worry about.”  
Karen sighed. “It’s better if you just leave it alone, Hosea. She ain’t gonna be civil if she goes out there and sees Micah.”  
“Well...” Hosea mumbled.  
“He burned this poor lady’s house down, in case you forgot,” I snapped quietly.  
“That was an accident.”

I rolled my eyes and looked over at Sadie. She was practically unresponsive. I couldn’t say I blamed her, though. Her husband was dead and Micah had burned her house down. I didn’t know how he managed to do that, but he had. She hadn’t showed up in nothing but a nightgown and a blanket wrapped around her. My current complaints next to hers were nothing in comparison.

“Stop the pacing,” Hosea pleaded.  
I stepped toward him. “If I don’t pace, my mind will go right back to thinking how cold everyone is and how Sean is missing or hurt or...or...or something! ‘No need to worry, Evie, it’ll be fine.’ Plenty of need to worry now, isn’t there?”

I left the cabin and slammed the door shut. Maple wasn’t handling this cold very well, either. I wandered over to her to at least see if she needed anything. Well, I knew she needed a stable or someplace warm for her to stay. She’d adapted just fine in Blackwater, but now I wasn’t so sure she would. Hopefully we would move on before she needed to adapt. Just when I was about to head back to the cabin, I could hear Micah’s voice coming from the cabin he shared with some of the other men. I would have been lying if I said I didn’t at least care if Dutch was feeling okay or not.

“Oh, _fine_,” I muttered to myself.

I quickly walked over to the cabin Dutch was in. He looked up from the book he had found when I closed the door.

“Thought you were gonna spend some time with Hosea and the other ladies,” he muttered.  
“I just came to see if you’re okay,” I replied sourly. “But if you don’t want me here, then I’ll just go back.”  
“Just have a seat. We need to talk about some things.”  
“I’d rather stand.”  
“Well, it’s the first time in four days you’ve showed any interest in how I am.”  
“I don’t know what happened on that boat and no one will tell anyone anything. The only thing anyone knows about it is Davey got shot and now he’s dead, and Sean and Mac are missing. Don’t confuse my silence with not caring, because I do. Do I get to hear what happened out of the horse’s mouth or do I need to ask someone like Charles or Javier?”  
“All you need to know is that we got the money and it’s in a safe place.”  
“No, that is not all I need to know, Dutch. Hosea wanted me to come see if you were okay for my peace of mind for a reason.”

Dutch shook his head, shutting the book. Either he was going to tell me or he wasn’t. Did he think I would go and use the information he could tell me to tell the law? I was still loyal, otherwise I probably _would_ have hightailed it out of Blackwater on my own. I wouldn’t have returned to Arkansas; just wandered around by myself.

“I’m still here, Dutch,” I reminded him.  
“Everything was goin’ fine, Evie,” he said. “Ain’t sure how it happened, but there was suddenly so much goddamn chaos and I couldn’t think straight. Mac and Sean probably got caught up in all of it. Didn’t take long for any of us to realize they weren’t with us. So I don’t know what happened to ’em, but they’re probably okay.”  
“I guess some people on the other side died, then?”  
Dutch sighed. “Evie, I... There was... In all that chaos, when I couldn’t think--”  
“You killed an innocent person, didn’t you?” I gave him a few seconds to reply. “_Didn’t_ you?”  
“I did.”

He preached not to kill innocent people. It was one of the things that made him so different from the O’Driscolls. Whatever had led to the chaos, like he said he couldn’t think. Perhaps there wasn’t any time to think. Among all that, everyone had lost sight of one another, at least that was what I was guessing. But otherwise how would have Sean and Mac been missing from everyone else?

“That’s...” I mumbled. “Well, are you okay?”  
“I’ll be fine. What about you?”  
“California is colder than I expected.”  
“That ain’t what I meant.”

I knew that it wasn’t what he had meant. Obviously I was cold; everyone was cold. Everyone was hungry. Everyone was confused. There was worry. No one could run into a town and get food for the camp because there was no town to go to. We were stuck on the mountain until the thaw or until we starved or until we froze.

“I’m concerned, to put it simply,” I admitted. “Is Sadie going to be okay?”  
“You don’t know what happened to her, do you?” Dutch asked.  
“Aside from Micah burning her house down and her husband being dead, I don’t.”  
“O’Driscolls killed her husband.”

My heart felt like it was going to leap up into my throat. Or was I going to be sick? This is where Colm and Bonnie took off to? No wonder we hadn’t heard from them in a while. But to think we’d ended up going the same way they did... I didn’t feel so well all of a sudden.

“We’re going to be okay,” Dutch tried to assure me. “They ain’t gonna hurt either of you here.”  
“They didn’t...” I mumbled. “I mean, do you think they...”  
“Those animals had her trapped in the cellar for a couple days. They coulda done anything to her. You and her are the only two here who’ve survived them.”  
“I wish I hadn’t.”  
“Now don’t say that.”  
“Can we change the subject? Like how badly I’d like to shove Micah off this mountain?”

I’d managed to avoid Micah like he had the plague, but that was going to come to an end sooner or later. He luckily spent time either in his own cabin or in the cabin Dutch and I shared. There was going to be a time when I came into the cabin to sleep and he would be there. That was a day I was going to try and sleep in the cabin with the other ladies. Room or no, Karen and Mary Beth already told me I could squeeze in with them if I needed to.

“When are you gonna let up on him?” Dutch sighed, walking over to me.  
“Depends if he continues to be a cretin or not,” I replied. “He doesn’t help things.”  
“What things?”  
“Do you think I enjoy being called princess? Before the cabin, it was just an annoyance, but now every time he opens his mouth to greet me I’m just reminded of everything that happened. I know what he wants to do to me; don’t think that I don’t. When I want it from someone, I’ll ask for it.”

Micah made my skin crawl and my blood boil. I didn’t know who was worse; him or Declan. Micah didn’t care about anyone other than himself; that much I could realize. He could say over and over that he was worried about the people in the camp, but it was just impossible to believe. Always antagonizing everybody and using those..._names_ when talking about Charles and Javier. They were allowed to take their anger about it out on him but when I did it in regards to being manhandled by him or called princess, I was just another crazy lady. When Cornelius called me Tessa in front of the whole camp, I expected Micah to start calling me such since he knew I didn’t like my first given name. No, he knew “princess” irked me so much more and just wouldn’t stop.

“Do you think things between you and I would have been fine if it happened been for Colm?” I wondered.  
“Maybe,” Dutch replied. “We’ll never know now. Unless you--”  
“No. It is not happening. You know my problems with us. I’m still allowed to care and I’m still loyal to you -- don’t question that -- but I’m not going to allow myself to be weak like that.”  
“You think loving someone is weakness?”  
“No, Dutch, I don’t. You don’t love me. Don’t try to convince me that you do. I’m just a convenience and you just want me to be that.”  
He sighed. “Evie, I cared about you. I still care about you.”  
“You didn’t care _enough_.”

I was still caught up on the fact it was Sean and Charles who found me in the cabin. Still caught up on the fact it was Charles, Javier, and Sean to come find me when I’d left the camp to join Arthur, only to find me drunk in a saloon. I was fine living that kind of life but I was not fine living it with someone who didn’t love me or care enough about me.

“Well,” Dutch said, in a matter-of-fact tone, “what about you?”  
“What about me?”  
“Did _you_ love _me_?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“Ah.”

I could tell what he was hinting at. It was fine for me to not love him, but it wasn’t fine for him not to love me. That was what he must have been assuming I was thinking, at least. Why should I be with someone I didn’t know if I loved or not? Maybe if I loved him, I wouldn’t have yelled at him as much as I did. Well, Abigail and John loved each other, even if they argued quite a bit. Well, maybe if I loved him I wouldn’t have asked people if they thought Dutch loved me.

“Why don’t you know?” he inquired.  
“I’m still trying to figure out if I fell in love with you or if I fell in love with your stories,” I replied. “Colm and Bonnie put many things inside my head that I wish I could unhear, too, Dutch. I’m never going to be able to replace anybody you might want me to or...I’m never going to be able to be touched again without panicking.”

The last time I had let him touch me was only the once after coming back from the cabin. Panic had set in rather quick, even if I knew it was just him and no one else. It took him a good few moments to calm me down; I was as determined as he was to finish. But I still felt like I needed to scratch my skin until I bled. Sleeping in a bed with someone was different than actually _sleeping_ with them. There wasn’t even much skin contact when it was in a tent in the middle of winter.

“I appreciate that you helped me through what happened that night,” I mumbled. “But...I really just can’t help feel like it was only so you could finish without feeling guilty.”  
“Hm.” Dutch didn’t look or sound pleased. “I care about everyone here, but I care about you the most.”  
“You were my first everything. I’m always going to care about you, Dutch, but this... I just can’t do this, alright? Please, let’s just leave it alone.”

I went to leave the cabin, but Micah opened the door before I could even leave. Just my luck. The last person I wanted to see.

“Hey, princess,” he mocked. “Bed comfy enough for ya?”  
“Leave me alone, Micah,” I muttered, shoving past him.

I headed back in the direction of the cabin where I had left Hosea and the other ladies, only to be caught up to by Charles. I hadn’t spoken to him since we left Blackwater, but he had tried to get me to stop crying while we were travelling up the mountain. Granted, I hadn’t been the only crier and I hadn’t been the one wailing like a child, but he had been patient enough to try and talk me out of my sobbing.

“You okay?” he asked.  
“Is anyone?” I replied.  
“I’m asking you. Specifically.”  
“No, I am not okay, Charles. I’ve no idea where we are, Sean and Mac are missing, and there’s a bunch of O’Driscolls around apparently.”  
“Come with me to my cabin. I’ll help you warm up, at least.”  
“Lenny and Bill won’t mind?”  
“If they do, they can leave.”  
***

“Don’t tell me to be careful,” Javier said.  
“I didn’t even say anything yet,” I mumbled. “What am I not telling you to be careful for?”  
“Me and Dutch and some of the other boys are gonna see where those O’Driscolls are set up.”  
“If you don’t want me to tell you to be careful, then I won’t. I was just gonna say ‘hi’.”  
“Oh. Well, hey, then.”

Going into a camp full of O’Driscolls was bound to turn out really good or really bad. I trusted Dutch enough to be better about it than the boat. I’d just wanted to talk to Javier since we hadn’t said but a few words to each other since arriving at the mining town. He’d been in the cabin with the ladies before I showed up and he was gone to go find John also before I showed up. Now I hadn’t been expecting to find out he was going out to find O’Driscolls when I just wanted to say hi to him and ask how he was doing.

“I’ll talk to you when you get back then,” I sighed.  
“You can talk to me now,” Javier replied. “I ain’t gonna bite you, unless you want me to.”  
“Um... Huh?”  
“It was a _joke, amiga_; relax. What did you want?”  
“Just wanted to see how you were doing...”  
“Besides being cold and almost starving to death? I’m fine.”  
“Next time ask me for my--”  
“_Ay_, Evie, I’m fine. I’m not starving to death.”  
“You have a very weird way of making jokes, Javier.”  
“I’m trying to get you to relax.”

At least he was honest about it. I needed to relax, but I just couldn’t. How could anyone relax in freezing cold weather and not knowing when they’d be off the god-awful mountain? I didn’t even relax when I was sleeping, apparently. The same cabin I shared with Dutch I also shared with Arthur; I’d been woken up enough times by Arthur in the cabin because he thought I was already awake and just pretending. He thought as such because my face was in a scowl. I slept with a scowl on my face, evidently, because it was cold and I couldn’t get myself warm enough to actually relax.

“So much for having that drink,” Javier said. “Whenever we get off the mountain, then we can.”  
“Okay,” I mumbled.  
“Go get warm so your pretty face don’t get stuck like that.”  
I almost choked on my words. “Th-The last thing I’m worried about right now is if I look pretty or not.”

I quickly turned around and walked to the cabin the ladies were gathered in. A fireplace could only do so much warming up and it wasn’t even doing a good job in the first place. It was starting to get better inside than outside, but it was still a long way to go.

“Why do ya got that look on your face?” Mary Beth asked.  
“Didja see somethin’ you shouldn’t have?” Karen added in.  
“What? No,” I said defensively. “What are you talking about?”  
“You’re talkin’ weird, too,” Abigail mentioned.  
“No, I’m not.”  
“Someone called you pretty, didn’t they?” Karen teased.  
“Who was it this time?” Tilly asked.

They really must have been bored not being able to do anything but stand around a fire all day. I didn’t even know how they managed to stand still; I was restless and I managed to move around enough. How were they even able to tell what had happened without my saying a word to them? Was it really that obvious or were they just guessing and playing with me?

“What?” I blurted out.  
“You got the same look on your face that you got when Sean calls you pretty,” Karen replied.

Abigail hit her in the shoulder.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” Karen snapped.  
“You think she wants to be reminded how worried she is?” Abigail retorted.  
“Aw, shit. I’m sorry, Evie.”  
“It’s...fine...” I mumbled. “It’s not like you meant it...”  
“Who called you pretty?” Mary Beth said. “Let’s talk about somethin’ better.”  
“Javier.”  
“If it’s comin’ from him, you know it’s a real compliment,” Abigail said, holding her hands out to the fire. “That man don’t really kid around when it comes to ladies.”

There was the jealousy I was feeling again. She would know how he treated ladies. She would know how some of the other men treated ladies. Maybe that was why she was so adamant about talking me down from staying with Dutch -- because she knew what would happen if I stayed. I could use her...knowledge...to my benefit if I really wanted to.

“Y’know he’s sweet on you, don’tcha?” Karen mentioned.  
“No, he’s not,” I protested.  
“Charles is, too.”  
“No, he’s not.”

My second protest came out quicker and louder than the first one. It made Mary Beth and Karen look at me in shock. Abigail and Tilly were looking at each other. I didn’t know what Abigail looked like, but from Tilly’s expression I could see she was wondering why I was in denial.

“Sean is, too,” Karen mumbled.  
“Stop mentioning him!” Abigail snapped.  
“He’s not, either,” I huffed.  
“Whatever you say, sweetie,” Karen sighed. “They are, though. What’s it like to be pretty?”

Not _this_ again. When I had first arrived at the camp in Blackwater, Karen hadn’t exactly been quiet about how jealous she was about how pretty I was. I knew I was pretty, but I didn’t walk around saying it. The suitors Cornelius had thrown at me knew how pretty I was, but if I wasn’t just going to sit there and look it then they didn’t want me. Hardly anyone wanted a lady who had looks and brains and had “ideas above her station”. Times were changing and more and more people were open to the idea, but so many people were still stuck in the past.

“Don’t you start,” I said. “You’re pretty, too. And don’t say that I’m just saying it to be nice, because I’m not. All you ladies are pretty.”  
“There ain’t a lot of men lookin’ at my body...” Karen muttered.  
“Karen! Do you want me to show you the scars on my body? Shut up! And no one is looking at my body. The only one here who’s actually seen it is Dutch and he hasn’t even seen it in months. I intend to keep it that way.”  
“Evie, I’ve had people look at me and say, ‘Nice face ya got there, darlin’. Shame about that body of yours.’”  
“_People_? Or _men_?”  
“Well...just men, but...”  
“No. No ‘buts’, Karen. The only men who say that are only concerned about what’s skin deep or they are pigs. My friend Joanna is getting married next month and, you know, she looks a lot like you. The man she’s marrying is really nice and cares enough about her to look past her body. You can find someone like that one day, you know.”  
“You really think I can?”  
“Of course I do. Listen, Daddy introduced hundreds of suitors to me. They all only wanted me to sit there and look pretty. Being pretty isn’t the only thing that matters, okay? And besides...the only reason I’m pretty is because I’m a carbon copy of my mother. I’d rather not be.”  
“Ain’t it easier being pretty, though?” Abigail wondered.  
“Yes and no. Men are more inclined to say ‘hello’ on the street, but heaven forbid a pretty lady gets drunk or is lost. If I wasn’t pretty, then maybe the O’Driscolls would have been less inclined to...to...uh...to... Um, I...need to be alone.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“Evie,” Dutch said, catching up to me, “Evie.”  
“What do you want?” I mumbled.  
“You ain’t still mad at me, are ya?”  
“You let an O’Driscoll into our camp.”  
“He’s harmless if he’s tied up. I need you to take him some food. We need him to talk, but he’s starvin’ over there.”  
“_You_ do it.”  
“Evie--”

I swatted the air and took the bowl of stew from him. If the O’Driscoll was tied up, how was he going to eat? Was Dutch expecting me to feed him? I was angry enough as it was with Sean missing and being stuck on the mountain, and now the O’Driscoll just added to it. I grumbled to myself as I made my way over to the cabin he was being held in. The place was dark as a night without stars, and so I lit up an oil lamp. I nearly ended up dropping the bowl when I saw who it even was. I couldn’t remember his name, but I remembered his face well enough.

“Oh, my goodness,” I sighed.  
“Hey, you got out,” he said, sounding relieved. “Thank God.”  
“I remember you, but...I’m really sorry...I don’t remember your name.”  
“It’s Kieran. I-I don’t wanna sound rude, but--”  
“The stew is for you, yes.”

I really should have untied him so he could have use of his hands, but if anyone else came and saw what I had done, both Kieran and I would have more problems on our hands. I understood why he was tied up and why he was being starved, but I really didn’t think it would get anyone answers. Whatever the answers that were wanted, there had to be an easier way to get them.

“I’m really sorry,” I said as I dragged a chair in front of him. “They won’t kill me, but they really would have my head if I untied you.”  
“I understand,” he complained. “At least you’re lettin’ me eat; the men just eat in front of me.”  
“Dutch probably sent me in here thinking you were one of _those ones_ and I would do the same.”

I felt like such a fool for forgetting Kieran’s name in the first place; at least I’d remember it now. Whenever was the last time he ate, I had no idea, but I let him eat in peace. Well, as peaceful as it could be when someone was feeding him. This boy was famished to all hell. They really were starving him. Well, they had to untie him at some point, didn’t they?

“I’m sorry for what they did,” Kieran said when he was finished.  
“You had nothing to do with it,” I quickly shot back. “It was Bonnie’s idea.”  
“She’s a scary lady, Tes--”  
“Evie. And she’s very scary. She’s not the only one to blame, of course.”

I pulled the small canteen I carried around with me out of my coat pocket and opened it for him. He drank out of it until he could drink no more. Really, anyone could just check in on us through one of the windows and realize just how kindly I was treating him. That would get me yelled at by someone for sure.

“Colm didn’t mention that you were from this gang,” he admitted. “Okay if I ask why?”  
“Do you not know what Colm did?” I asked quietly.  
“All I ever heard was the screamin’ and cryin’ and the other boys braggin’.”

I leaned back in the chair. Did I want to talk about it again? He’d been around when everything happened; I couldn’t believe he didn’t know what Colm had done. Maybe that was just something Colm had done for his own sick satisfaction, not for his sick bragging rights. If all Kieran heard was my screaming and crying and the other O’Driscoll’s bragging, then he didn’t know the half of it.

“I’m here because I was pregnant,” I said slowly. “My daddy wanted me to marry someone and didn’t know I was, so...I ran away. And when Colm... Kieran, I...”  
“When you say you was pregnant...don’t that mean...?”  
“I’d be a little over seven months now if...if...”  
“I’m real sorry.”  
“At least it was over quicker than everything else.” I looked down at my lap with a quiet sigh. “Everything else is still stuck with me. The scars, the nightmares, and the panic... Why did you join them?”

My tone was accusatory. He only took care of the horses, didn’t he? And he seemed like a nice guy, aside from joining up with Colm, so what was his deal? His answer was much simpler than mine. The gang he had been with previous had been killed by Colm and there wasn’t much of a choice. Either the remaining people who were alive could join or die. Kieran didn’t want to die, so he joined up.

“I ain’t one of ’em, I swear,” he told me. “I’d just joined up with ’em before they caught you--”  
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me further,” I interrupted. “Don’t think that you have to. You didn’t hurt me.”  
“Yeah, but I didn’t help you, neither.”  
I sniffled. “Kieran, your face is not the face I see right before I wake up in a cold sweat at night.”  
“Please don’t c--”

There was banging on the door -- impatient banging. I quickly got up and pulled the chair back to where I found it. Upon opening the door, I found Javier waiting outside. Dutch had sent him to check up on me. Apparently I had been taking too long.

“Are you crying?” he asked. “Did that O’Driscoll make you cry?”  
“No,” I replied.  
“Don’t gotta lie if he threatened you, _amiga_.”

He moved past me to walk through the door, but I grabbed his arm to stop him.

“W-We were just talking about what happened at the cabin,” I stammered. “He didn’t do anything.”  
“Evie--”  
“I mean it, Javier. He didn’t do anything then and he didn’t do anything now.”  
“He’s still an O’Driscoll.”  
I tugged on his arm. “Just leave it. Please?”  
It took Javier a moment to answer. “Alright, fine. You go to your cabin. I’ll let Dutch know you’re okay.”

Javier slammed the door shut and wandered back in the direction where Dutch was waiting. I returned to the cabin and went through my dresses. The one I was wearing was beginning to feel stiff from the cold. I quickly changed into a new one and began putting my coat back on when I heard the front door close. Assuming it was Dutch, I turned to assure him I was fine. But no, it was Micah.

“Well, don’t you look ravishing,” he said.  
“Okay,” I muttered.  
He wandered toward me. “Seein’ as how everybody else is busy, how’s about we get busy ourselves?”  
“Leave me alone, Micah. I’m really not--”  
“You’ll let a damn greaser into your sheets like a whore, but not me?”  
“Would it kill you to watch your mouth? Two types of men I can’t stand and the first one is the type of man my daddy wants me to marry and then there’s you. Really, Micah, please just leave me alone, before I feed you to the bears or whatever roams these parts.”

Micah must have had enough of my backtalk. He bunched up my hair into his fist and pulled, just so I was slightly bent backward and looking up at him. I did my best to appear that I wasn’t afraid. It didn’t last, though, because the next moment I felt the cold, sharp tip of his knife pressing against the side of my neck.

“You’re startin’ to look a bit chubby there, princess,” he mentioned. “Pretty soon you’re gonna have to worry about more than just a scar or two on your belly. The bears would appreciate something with more meat on her bones.”  
“Don’t--” I began, but he pressed the knife harder against my skin.  
“I’d think of your choice of words from now on if I were you. Don’t go thinkin’ you can tell someone about this, neither, or I’ll make sure that the shit those damn O’Driscolls did to you ain’t the worst thing to ever happen to ya.”

The front door opened again and Micah finally let me go, feigning he accidentally walked into the wrong room. Arthur shouted at him to get out, which thankfully he did. I was just buttoning up my coat as I wandered out to leave the cabin again.

“Whoa, hey, you alright?” Arthur asked.  
“I’m fine,” I lied with a fake chuckle. “He just...walked in on me changing, that’s all.”  
“Bastard.”  
“Honest mistake.”  
“Ain’t nothin’ honest about him, Evie.”

I quickly left the cabin, but where else was I meant to go to be alone? I couldn’t take Maple out into the wilderness -- we would get lost immediately and I wasn’t equipped to deal with wolves or bears or whatever else lived in the mountains. There was nowhere I could cry in peace, either, not unless Arthur left our cabin again, and I was pretty sure he was in there to take a nap. I found Pearson passed out next to the hot coals he used to cook with and took one of the bottles of liquor he managed to bring up the mountain. He’d remembered to grab the alcohol but not food -- what a responsible camp cook he was.

Next I had to check if any of the cabins were empty. Luckily enough, Charles’ cabin was empty. I didn’t know where he or any of the other men who shared the cabin were, but it was nice and quiet and I could drink and cry in peace. Well, peace away from anything living, at least; my thoughts and memories didn’t give me a moment of peace at all. I didn’t know exactly what I was drinking, but it was strong, tasted disgusting, and got the job done. Pretty soon I was a sobbing mess in the corner of the cabin, hidden between a wall and one of the beds.

I didn’t know how long I was by myself for, but it was dark out by the time someone came into the cabin. I was dreading Micah since he shared the cabin; thankfully it wasn’t Micah. It was Lenny, who looked pretty shocked to see me in his cabin, drunk and crying. He shouted something like he found me; they must have been looking for me again. They should have been taking care of Sadie, not looking for me.

“Now ain’t really the time to be doin’ this, don’t ya think, princess?” Micah asked.

He’d come in with Charles, Javier, and Arthur. Once I realized he was in the cabin, I threw the now empty bottle at him. He ducked it, along with the other three.

“What happened this time?” Javier asked.  
“Micah walked in on her changin’,” Arthur replied. “Well, _apparently_. I think there’s more to it than--”  
I’d taken one of my boots off and thrown it at Micah. “I’m not a whore!”  
“What did you do?” Charles looked at Micah. “No. Never mind. I don’t wanna know.”

I took off my other boot and threw that one, too.

“For Chrissake, get the hell outta here before she breaks somethin’!” Arthur snapped, shoving Micah toward the door. “Charles, come with me and keep an eye on him.”  
“Sure, Arthur.”

Charles and Arthur left, following Micah out the front door. Javier sighed as he wandered over to me and sat on the floor next to me.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

I didn’t answer him; I just continued to sob. Micah’s knife hadn’t scared me and him telling me he’d be the one feeding me to the bears hadn’t scared me. It was what he had been insinuating what he would do to me. He hadn’t needed to put it into words; I knew what he wanted from me and he must have thought a threat and a knife would have made me agree. I’d rather die first than give him what he wanted. What also scared me was that he’d attacked my looks. It was vain of me to think I looked good, but I knew I looked good. I didn’t become a pageant queen by not being skinny and pretty. I could tell Karen and the other ladies that they were all pretty and act like I thought looks didn’t matter, but they mattered to my body.

“Micah called me fat,” I sobbed.  
“You ain’t fat,” Javier assured me. “I can’t easily tell with this jacket on you, but I know you ain’t fat.”  
“You’re just saying that.”  
“No. You look good. We all got problems, Evie, but you bein’ fat ain’t one of ’em. On the way to the boat, Sean was sayin’ how you’re a queen or somethin’?”  
“I’m a pageant queen.”  
“Right. So you think you could’ve been one if you were fat?”

I shook my head immediately, but continued to sob at the mention of Sean. I hadn’t mentioned Sean for a few days, so Javier must have thought I was okay to hear about him. Well, I wasn’t. Not in the slightest. But he was just trying to make me feel better. _Trying_.

“You know that guy you guys got tied up?” I asked.  
“The O’Driscoll? Yeah,” he replied.  
“He’s the only one who didn’t touch me.”  
“You told me already, but it still don’t change things.”  
“Maybe. Maybe not. I really wish they would have just killed me, Javier.”  
“_Ay_, don’t say that. Tsk. You’d be robbin’ the world of a real pretty lady.”  
“My face is pretty. My body is not.”  
“Don’t say that, either.”

Javier got up and retrieved my boots for me. After I struggled to get them on and tie up the laces, I reached up for him to help me to my feet.

“Okay, _amiga_, let’s get you to bed,” he groaned as he pulled me up. “It’s a new day tomorrow, huh? It’ll be better.”  
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I droned. “Just...sleep next to me?”  
“Of course. Let’s go.”  
***

“My head hurts,” I muttered to myself.  
“Maybe stop getting drunk,” Dutch replied.

He’d only been walking by me and had heard me. I looked at him with a sigh as he kept on walking. I was standing in a very awkward spot outside, standing between two cabins to keep out of the wind and hide from the likes of Micah. The ladies had wanted me to join them in the cabin, but I’d refused just because I couldn’t look at Karen after what I had told her. If word had managed to get back to her, which most certainly it did, she’d have a bone or two to pick with me.

“Dutch?” I called, peeking out from between the cabins.  
“What?” he asked, turning back around.  
“Please come here.”

Dutch came back over to where I was and I pulled him into the gap with me. He stood against one of the cabins with his hands in his pockets. His jacket was so much warmer than mine and so I ended up shoving my hands into his pockets.

“What do you think you’re doin’’?” he asked.  
“What does it look like?” I replied.  
“So you gonna tell me what happened or not?”  
“Javi-Javier didn’t tell you?”  
“Charles and Arthur didn’t, either. The only thing that I know is that they found you crying on the floor. They didn’t tell me nothing because you always end up tellin’ me yourself sooner or later.”

I rolled my eyes. Well, that was true. Either someone else let Dutch know right away what was going on with me or they let the anger simmer inside of me until it was too late and I exploded. At least this time it hadn’t been Dutch I had done the exploding at. I didn’t think I ever threw anything at Dutch, either. This had been the first time I’d been drunk enough not to control myself but sober enough to remember what had been happening around me and what I’d been saying.

“Apparently I’m fat,” I mumbled.  
“Who said _that_?” Dutch asked, confusion in his voice.  
“The supposed man on the moon.” I shook my head. “It was Micah; who else?”  
“You ain’t anywhere near fat, Evie, and you know that.”  
“He got mad at me because I said I’d feed him to the bears if he didn’t leave me alone.”  
“I know he’s frustrated.”  
“He’s not frustrated, Dutch, he wants to climb into my sheets. I’ve let Sean, Javier, and Charles sleep next to me, but I’ve not... I’ve not let...” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not a whore like Micah says I am.”  
“Well, whores tend to get paid.”

I gave him a light kick before moving closer to him. Being gutted and people in the camp knowing about it would have been obvious that a scar had been left behind. Micah didn’t know the half of it and Dutch had only seen a handful of them on my shoulders when I had shown him. “A scar or two” was a severe understatement. Whatever those O’Driscolls could do to me, they did to me. Most of the scars came from burning out cigarettes or cigars on my skin; only a few came from actual cuts from knives. The scar from Colm cutting me open wasn’t as prominent as I made it out to be; I’d been cauterized almost immediately after the fact. It was only so noticeable to me because it was on me and I’d been awake for it all. I wished I hadn’t been, but I didn’t know if getting knocked out and waking up to find out what happened would have been worse.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever willingly slept with,” I said.  
“I know,” Dutch replied with a sigh. “I know.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“I don’t know. I’m just sorry, okay?”

Dutch took his hands out of his pockets and pulled me closer to him. I wasn’t too sure what he was doing, but I was warm so I wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t the one I hated, either. But obviously if Abigail caught us how we were, she would get upset with me, for sure. We weren’t standing like that for long, because the next thing I knew I heard Micah shouting for Dutch.

“You should go,” I muttered. “Thank you.”  
“Well, you ain’t fat,” he reminded me. “You ain’t gotta hold yourself back just because you got scars. I dunno what you need to hear, but it ain’t like I’m gonna get mad if you move on.”  
“You seemed upset when you thought I moved on quickly in Blackwater.”  
“That was _before_ you told me you hadn’t slept with Charles. Anyway, get into the cabin with the other ladies before you get cold again.”

Dutch left me standing between the cabins and wandered off to find Micah. I stayed put instead of joining the other ladies for a few moments. I didn’t want to have to face Karen in case someone said that I’d been crying because I’d been called fat. Maybe if Dutch was busy talking to Micah, I could spend some time trying to figure out what to do to pass the time. I came out from between the cabins and almost bumped right into Charles.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “You okay?”  
“I’m fine, I guess,” I mumbled. “Just bored. I lost my needlepoint somewhere between here and Blackwater.”  
“We’ll be off this mountain soon.”  
“At least you’re allowed to go out.”  
“No one wants any of you ladies getting lost.” He stayed quiet a few seconds. “Again.”  
“I’m sorry I chose your cabin to get lost in.”  
“What was that, anyway?”

Charles had obviously been there when I screamed about not being a whore and Arthur saying that I’d apparently been walked in on changing. Javier was nice enough not to talk about what I told him, but that meant if anyone else asked I could either lie or tell them about it. I’d already told Dutch, too; did I want to tell another person? Both of those two had done their best to convince me that Micah was wrong.

“Am I really not fat?” I asked quietly.  
Charles looked confused. “What? Is that what it was about?”  
“Well, yes, but Micah also...”

I could trust Charles enough not to tell anyone anything. But how was I even supposed to tell him? I was frustrated with myself. I should have just told him in the first place when I woke up instead of waiting for us to bump into each other. We hadn’t even spoken that much since we’d been stuck up on the mountain. Whole days would pass without so much as a glance at each other. I had spoken to the ladies much more than I had expected to.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” Charles asked.  
“Well, no-not like that,” I said. “He kind of threatened to if I don’t speak to him nicer.”  
He sighed. “Evie...”  
“I’m okay.”  
“The way we found you last night, I find that hard to believe.”  
“I just can’t wait to be off this mountain so I can go back out and not have to see Micah all the time.”  
“We’re gonna be robbing a train soon; that’s when we can leave, I think.”  
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”  
“Not if you don’t want me to. You should get inside, though, okay?”

Charles continued on his way over to where the horses were hitched and I finally made my way to the cabin where the other ladies were. The only reason why it was so quiet was because Susan hadn’t been barking orders as much as she did in the actual camp. There was nothing for us girls to do but stand around and freeze and gossip. John was elsewhere, recovering from a rather intense wolf attack. The men made it out to be that it was nothing, but he was definitely going to scar. The other men did whatever it was they wanted to if there was nothing that needed to be done.

“Were you talkin’ to Charles again?” Karen teased.  
“What do you mean ‘again’?” I shivered. “It’s the first time in a while.”  
“You know what I mean. We already told you he’s sweet on you.”  
“And _I_ already told _you_ that he’s not.”  
“What about Sean and Javier?” Mary Beth wondered.  
“Still no.”  
Abigail sighed and moved closer to the fireplace. “You ain’t still sweet on Dutch, are ya?”

I wasn’t still sweet on Dutch, but she must have thought so. Maybe she _had_ seen me with him and figured it was so. I’d just been cold and it wasn’t as if I could have just walked up to Charles and done what I did. There was a reason why she worried if I went back to him or not, but I didn’t want to. Being friendly and caring for someone I used to be with shouldn’t have seemed like a crime. She’d been so adamant about wanting me to leave him. It wasn’t hard seeing him around. What was hard was how, lately, he went about things. Before I knew it was Kieran whom Arthur had brought back, I avoided Dutch like he had the plague, too.

“She’s sweet on Sean,” Mary Beth giggled.  
Despite the cold, my face got hot. “I-I am not.”  
“Pretty sure you’re sweet on Sean, Javier, and Charles like they are on you.”  
“I am not and they are not.”  
“Okay, Evie,” Karen said sarcastically.  
“Could we please stop talking about Sean?”  
“But not Javier and Charles?”  
“Talking about Sean isn’t making the situation any better.”

We all kept our mouths shut when Dutch came in to speak with Susan. He and the other men were heading out to rob the train in a little while. It was another big job, not as big as the boat, and I was just hoping nobody would get hurt or go missing this time around.

“What?” Dutch asked when he caught me giving him the side-eye.  
“You know what,” I muttered.  
“I ain’t a mind reader, Evangeline.”  
“Pulling out my full name isn’t going to make the thought go away. You _do_ know what I’m thinking.”  
“This ain’t a big deal. Nothing’s gonna go wrong this time.”  
“Stop arguing!” Susan snapped at me. “Jesus Christ, just let him be.”  
“Just make sure no one gets shot this time,” I said.

Dutch let out what sounded like a frustrated sigh and left the cabin. I knew I was being a handful, but it was within reason. The last time a big job got done, two people went missing and two others died. If no one liked that I worried, then they could have just told me. It wouldn’t have stopped my worrying, but if enough people told me to stop then perhaps I would have ceased voicing what I felt was wrong.

“What?” I snapped, looking back at the ladies.  
“Ain’t your name Tessa?” Karen asked.  
“You’re asking me _now_?”  
“Well...you said ‘full name’ when he called ya ‘Evangeline’, so...”  
“Tessa is my_ first_ given name and Evangeline is my _second_ given name. No one gets to call me Tessa except for Daddy.”  
“I think it’s a pretty name,” Tilly admitted.  
“Bonnie chose it.”

That shut everyone about my name up. I’d not heard anything about Bonnie, so perhaps she had gone ahead elsewhere to scout for camps or the like. At least she was most likely not on the mountain and any O’Driscolls who had been around were dead or had run away like the pathetic swine they were. If Kieran said he wasn’t one of them, I believed him on the sole fact he never even laid his hands on me. He hadn’t even accidentally brushed against me when he helped me drink from his canteen.

“Alright, well, we should get everything ready to go,” Susan said. “We’ll be leavin’ when they get back.”  
“Finally, getting off this damn mountain,” Karen muttered.  
“Where we goin’?” Tilly wondered.  
“Don’t know yet,” Susan replied, holding the door open. “Hosea or Dutch will figure it out.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“Well, well,” Micah said, walking up to my tent, “don’t you look absolutely divine?”  
“Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?” I asked.

We’d found a place to settle, thankfully. It was warmer and there was no snow around, so I was happy with just that. But of course Micah had to come along and ruin it, all because for the first time I ever I wasn’t wearing a jacket and my hair wasn’t tucked into the collar. Here I was preparing to head into Valentine to take a real bath for the first time in weeks and I had to be interrupted. Least of my problems, of course.

“Don’t you remember that talk we had?” Micah asked.

I waved him off to go find Dutch. Of all the things anyone forgot to pack, he forgot to pack my travelling trunk full of jewellery. So now we were in the middle of nowhere with no money, hardly any food, and next to no supplies. I knew I’d have to deal with actually being poor sooner or later, but I didn’t think it would be because someone forgot to pack something like a case full of jewellery. It was sitting somewhere in the old camp outside Blackwater. I would have gone back for it myself, but if anyone caught me near that place they would definitely be suspicious.

“Think it’s safe for me to go out on my own?” I wondered, stopping just outside Dutch’s tent.

He looked at me, but didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he looked me up and down. It had been a long time since he had seen how closely my dresses hugged my body. I was probably reminding him just what my body looked like before I came with him from Arkansas. Maybe it was time to go out and find work and save up for a new dress or two. It’d be slightly more difficult than that since I’d have to share my wages with the camp, but I had to get somewhere eventually.

“I asked you a question, Dutch,” I said, clearing my throat.  
“What was it?” Dutch replied. “Right. Yeah, you can go out.”

I went over to where Maple was hitched up. She didn’t feel as tense while I was petting her, so she was relaxed. The snow must have been so stressful for her. Well, we could go riding again and she wouldn’t have to be held back by the snow. As I was placing clean clothes into the saddlebag, I heard a whistle from behind me. I turned and saw Javier smoking.

“Looking good there, Evie,” he told me. “Where you off to?”  
“Valentine,” I replied. “Forgive me, but I need a real bath.”  
“Do you need any help?”  
“Thank you, but no, thank you.”

My voice had come out in a mumble and my skin felt hot; and not because of the weather. I mounted Maple with a sigh and headed out. It was maybe halfway to Valentine that I had to stop. There were voices I definitely recognized from my time at Colm’s cabin and they weren’t good ones. I didn’t know whether to keep going on my way to town or if I should have just returned back to Horseshoe. I’d no idea where the voices were coming from; they weren’t loud, but they weren’t quiet, either. While I was contemplating, someone came up next to me.

“Everything okay?”  
I jumped. “Charles, you scared me.”  
“Sorry, Evie. I...didn’t realize it was you.”  
“O’Driscolls.”  
“Where?”  
“I don’t know, but I can hear them.” I leaned forward on Maple with a sigh.  
“Where were you going?”  
“Valentine. Take a bath and then see if I can find something to do to make money, or after I might just head over to Strawberry and see my father.”

If I asked Cornelius for money, he would probably give me some or something to sell. That was taking the easy way out; it wasn’t fair, but if I couldn’t find something to do I might as well have done it. But then again, that would only prove to Micah and Arthur that I couldn’t handle their lifestyle. Some honest work would do me better in their eyes than taking the easy way out.

“There ain’t much for a lady to do there,” Charles said. “There’s the saloon and then... Well, the saloon would be the best choice.”  
“Still doesn’t sound good,” I replied. “Why would the saloon be the best?”  
“You can see if anyone needs a servant or your other choice is to be a workin’ girl. There might be something better in Strawberry.”  
“Thanks, Charles. Were you gonna go hunting?”  
“Someone’s gotta feed the camp. Get yourself some better clothes and I’ll take you next time.”

There was much more to deal with when there was no snow around. Twigs were more likely to snap if I stepped on them and my dress would get caught, no doubt. I’d offered Sadie one of my other dresses now that we were off the mountain. It looked better on her than it did me; if I kept giving away my clothes I was going to have to get new ones regardless. Maybe I should have considered saving for something that wasn’t a dress. The idea of wearing pants, though? I didn’t like it. Well, maybe I could get pants and only wear them out hunting. At the thought, I sat up straight and pulled on Maple’s reins.

“I can take you to Valentine if you want,” Charles offered.  
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’ll try to be careful.”  
“Alright, then. I’ll see you later.”

Maple and I continued on our way to Valentine. It was just as bad as Hosea had said. I’d never smelled livestock before and it was... Well, it was _something_. Even seeing the ladies who lived in the town, I could tell that I stuck out like a sore thumb. No one would be wearing clothes as nice as mine if they weren’t considered important. Well, not unless Karen and Abigail wore the dresses I got them into town. Cornelius had told me about Strawberry before and it sounded just a bit better than Valentine. I should have just gone there instead. I ignored the whistles I received as I walked into the hotel.

I still only had a little bit of money. I didn’t know what it was I was going to need to pay for in town. But if it was only a quarter to pay for a bath I figured I could just hand in the bills I had into the box at camp. After being on that mountain for so long without a normal bath, slipping into the tub felt wonderful. Being submerged wasn’t the same as boiling water over a fire and then hoping that no one would get burned, or someone being forced to dunk their head in a barrel of water if they were beginning to “ripen”. Obviously the men were allowed more room than the ladies.

Afterwards, I put my hair up in a bun and headed back out to check on Maple. She was just standing there, kicking at the dirt. I just needed to figure out if I should have headed to Strawberry or just dealt with what was in Valentine. I had to think about it for a good moment. If anyone came looking for me, the place they would least expect me to work in was the saloon. Now, there were ladies who served drinks, those who coerced people -- usually men -- into buying the drinks, and then there were the ones who were there to sell their bodies. Well, if I did the last thing I didn’t need to be in a saloon. My point to myself was proven when some man from across the road yelled at me how much I charged. He even ended up mentioning how much of a good time it would be.

“Ugh,” I muttered as I scurried across the way to the saloon.

My idea didn’t go as easily as planned. The owner believed that I was from England, but he had initially thought I was wanting to be hired so I could coerce people into buying drinks. Even while I was just standing at the counter, it seemed to bring men closer and asking for drinks just so they could stand next to me. Working in the saloon as a serving girl was the most honest I could be. Coercing wasn’t as honest and selling my body was the most dishonest I could get, paired up with my fake accent and fake backstory. I figured I would end up unintentionally coercing people to buy drinks, anyway, just merely for my “assets”. Though, there was one girl there already who could easily beat me because of _her_ “assets”. I was modest about mine and she...was not. Still, after pouting for several minutes because I, a “spoiled English girl”, wasn’t getting what I wanted, the owner cracked.

“Did I just see ya in the saloon?” Arthur asked just as I was wandering out.  
I jumped. “What is it with you boys and scaring me today?” I huffed. “Am I coming out of the saloon, Arthur?”  
“Answer the question.”  
“Yes, you saw me in there.”  
“Scammed your way into a job, didja?”

I shrugged and walked back across the way to where Maple was waiting. Arthur walked with me, mentioning how he didn’t actually think I’d stoop so low. Well, he figured it was low for my standards to be working in a saloon.

“You expected me to run to Daddy, didn’t you?” I accused. “Arthur, after _everything_ you still do not believe in me? Shame on you.”  
“But the saloon?” he sighed.  
“Charles told me how the saloon would be the best option.”  
“Alright, but a pretty girl like you ain’t gonna have an easy time of it.”  
“I am serving drinks, Arthur. Scammed my way into a job, yes, but at least it is honest. What are you up to?”  
“Just scopin’. About to head back to camp. You gonna come?”  
“Might as well.”

I decided to return to camp with Arthur because I didn’t think I could tell him why I was going to Strawberry. I’d be able to see if Cornelius was okay on another day; it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. It was a lovely coincidence that we ended up close to where he was. Well, it wasn’t necessarily_ close_, but it was close enough. I doubted anyone really was going to need to head into Strawberry and would catch Cornelius there or see me.

Dutch was still where I had left him, in his tent. But just as Arthur and I were hitching up our horses, he wandered over.

“How are you getting on?” he asked.  
“What the _hell_ is Evie’s cover?” Arthur replied. “She started talkin’ all--all posh and English.”  
“Spoiled English girl visiting America to see the sights. She’s good, ain’t she?”  
“Sean hates it,” I said sheepishly. “Erm...Dutch, is there any word on--”  
“No.” Dutch took a puff from his cigar. “You were gone a while.”  
“I have to make money somehow. I’m a serving girl at the saloon in Valentine.”  
“You’ll be makin’ a lot of fellers happy. Even if you ain’t sellin’ your body, just lookin’ at ya will--”  
“Okay, Dutch.”

I heard him chuckle as I walked away to get helping with the chores. There were plenty of socks that needed to be darned, and so I sat next to Abigail to help her out. Karen wasn’t sitting too far away doing laundry; she had to do a double take to actually realize it was me and not someone else. Abigail had seen me earlier on and Karen had not.

“That waist!” Karen cried.  
“Wearing a corset as tight as I did will do that,” I mumbled, looking down.  
“I had to take out that dress you gave me,” Abigail admitted. “I hope that’s alright.”  
“It’s yours now; don’t worry about it. I thought we were the same size.”

Even when I had bought her that dress from the finery as an apology, I hadn’t realized it was a bit bigger than the one I gave her. I didn’t know what she meant by “take out”, though, and she told me that she’d pulled the string out that cinched the waist. But looking at Karen, I could tell that she wasn’t happy again. She looked down and then back at me again.

“I’m not that little, am I?” I asked.  
“Sorry to tell ya, dear, but you are,” Abigail replied. “That waist ain’t normal.”  
“All the pageant girls did it. I’m not even the smallest.”  
“Tilly is only a tiny bit bigger than you are.”

Tilly _was_ quite petite, but in a good way. But I was smaller than her? Really? I looked back down at where my dress hugged my waist. It was making Karen feel bad and it was making _me_ feeling bad. Would I be able to make my waist grow or not? I sat there, pouting, as I darned socks until Pearson announced that the stew was ready.

Now Kieran... Well, he was tied to a tree, and he looked absolutely miserable. I couldn’t blame him; being tied up wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t know when the last time he ate was, so instead of eating the stew myself I wandered over to him. Mary Beth was just sneaking him water when I showed up.

“I ain’t doin’ anything!” she panicked.  
“I’m not doing anything, either,” I replied. “Are they still not feeding you, Kieran?”  
“They ain’t doin’ nothing,” Kieran complained. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for Mary Beth givin’ me water sometimes.”

Mary Beth walked off and I was left to give Kieran food. Out in the open as we were, it was going to be more noticeable if Mary Beth and I were helping him out. No one could talk if they were dead, and starving him clearly wasn’t working.

“Hey!” Micah snapped, walking past us. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, princess?”  
“What does it look like?” I muttered.  
“Helpin’ the enemy, that’s what. Or are ya trying to use your looks to get a confession outta him like a whore?”

I slowly turned to look at him. If my hands were free, I’d slap him. But they weren’t free, so the next best thing was--

“Fuck! Whore!” Micah shouted after I kicked him in his groin.

It looked like it took everything in him to not topple over in pain. If it weren’t for his hands being in the way, I would have kicked him again. And if it were my food and not Kieran’s, I would have thrown the hot contents at Micah’s face. I turned back to Kieran as Micah limped away from us.

“A-Are you okay?” he asked.  
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “But I’m not the one tied up to a tree. I can try and talk to Dutch, but I don’t think I’d be able to persuade him. Er, I _could_, actually.”  
“How do you mean?”  
“I’m pretty, aren’t I?”  
“Do you mean... Don’t do that for me. Ain’t that...well...”  
“Dutch is... He’s _Dutch_. If I was still pregnant, then maybe things would be better between us, but now that I’m not...persuasion might be easy.”  
“I’m sorry that Colm did what he did, but don’t do that.”

Maybe I shouldn’t use my body to persuade anyone. It would make Kieran feel bad and I didn’t know how I would be with it after the fact. Besides, how would I know that Dutch would keep his word, or if Micah wouldn’t say something to Dutch that made him go back on a promise? I finished up with Kieran with a quiet sigh.

“I’ll still try to talk to him, okay?” I said.  
“Talk to who about what?” Dutch asked, grabbing me by the waist. “You ain’t tryin’ to frustrate this poor boy, are ya?”  
“I’m just being nice.”  
“Well, I can see that. C’mon.”

I didn’t try to argue when he led me away from Kieran. It wasn’t like I was trying to be discreet about helping him like Mary Beth was, and my kicking Micah hadn’t exactly been quiet, either. I looked over at Micah’s tent and saw him sitting uncomfortably.

“What do you want?” I mumbled when Dutch let me go.  
“We need him to talk,” he replied.  
“I said it before -- no one can talk if they’re dead.”  
“He needs to talk sooner or later, or he dies.”

I swatted at the air with an annoyed sigh.

“That Kieran is also an O’Driscoll,” Dutch continued. “Now, I know he says he ain’t, but--”  
“He never put his hands on me,” I interrupted. “If he had I wouldn’t be helping him.”  
“What do ya mean he never put his hands on you?”  
“However many men Colm has, Kieran is the only one who didn’t...” I inhaled sharply. “He’s the only one who... Jeez, Dutch van der Linde, you know what I mean! Don’t be a jerk.”  
“I make no promises.”  
“What did you drag me away for, anyway? We were just talking.”  
“If starving him ain’t working, then I want you to frustrate him. You’re makin’ it harder on us.”

I stared at him. I’d be fine initially sleeping with Dutch if it meant getting Kieran away from being tied up, but using my body to try and get Kieran to talk was a whole other thing. I didn’t know whether to scream at Dutch or hit him. I really should have thought about what I was going to do, because the next moment my hand was hurting from actually slapping him. There was a few seconds of silence before I realized what I had actually done.

“Oh,” I mumbled. “Oh, no.”  
“I’ve had worse,” Dutch mentioned.  
“I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it. Well, I did, but I didn’t think-- Uh... I’m sorry.”  
“You really enjoy hitting people, don’t you?”  
“Only when I have to, but, uh... I should...go over there...”  
“What’s gotten into you?” Dutch grabbed my wrist to keep me from walking away.  
“What? What do you mean? I’ve been the same way since Black--”  
“You never said sorry about hittin’ Micah.”  
“I don’t care about Micah, Dutch. Can you please let me go?”

Dutch shrugged and let my wrist go. I scurried over to my tent and shut the flaps immediately. I wasn’t scared because I hit him; I was scared because of how I felt _after_ hitting him. He wanted me to do something that I never wanted to even think about doing. After the talk about not being a whore, I would have expected him to rethink what he wanted me to do. It wasn’t like I needed to work hard to frustrate someone, but to get Kieran to be so frustrated that he’d actually say something was I would have needed to work harder for.

I rummaged through my dresses and pulled the strings that cinched the waist out of all of them. It didn’t matter if they were expensive dresses anymore; I wasn’t going to have them hug me so tightly if they were just going to warrant whatever it was that the men felt when they looked at me. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be something. I lastly pulled the string out of the dress I was wearing. Besides, having them so tight made Karen feel bad, too.

“That ain’t doin’ much, princess,” Micah said when I came out of my tent.

He was already up and walking around again? I should have just stayed where I was.

“Micah--” I began to snap.  
“Ooh, what are ya gonna do?” he mocked, grabbing me and pulling me closer to him. “Hit me? You’re lucky Dutch has a soft spot for ya.”

I didn’t even have to say anything to get anyone’s attention that I wanted Micah to get away from me. Javier came up next to him and held his knife up to his throat.

“Better let her go if you don’t wanna get a hole in your neck,” he threatened.  
Micah let me go with a snicker. “Just havin’ some fun, Javier. Relax.”  
“Get lost.”

Javier waited until Micah was out of his sight before turning to me.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.  
“You okay?” he asked. “People only yell at Dutch; they don’t hit him.”  
“I’m not a whore, Javier. And...Kieran is a nice guy, so the idea to use my body to make him so frustrated he’ll talk makes me sick. I know you need him to talk, but...”

Karen stumbling over to us made me stop talking. I’d seen her get drunk before and she spoke a lot of nonsense. She grabbed onto my shoulders.

“List-en,” she hiccuped, “you can’t keep denyin’ it, okay?”  
“Denying what, Karen?” I asked, concerned.  
“Them boys are sw-eet on you and you’re sweet on them, too! They might l-ove you, but you just gotta stop sayin’ ‘no’.”  
“Maybe you should go to sleep?”  
“And _y-ou_!”

She turned to Javier, poking him in the chest. Karen could barely keep her eyes open; how was she talking so much? I felt the need to grab her and drag her over to where her bedroll was, but maybe that would have just made her angry.

“She a-in’t gonna be available for much longer i-f one of them other boys tells her how they’re feelin’!” she slurred. “Look at her! Ain’t she pretty with that t-iny waist of hers?”

She’d gotten drunk because she realized just how skinny I was? Well, she’d also been crying about Jenny, Mac, and Davey earlier on, so maybe that also was the reason. Still, I felt responsible for what was going on with her.

“She’s pretty,” Javier agreed, “but ain’t it time you went and gone to sleep?”  
“I’ll go to sl-eep when I damn well _please_,” Karen said.

She slunk away toward the campfire.

“I should...not be here,” I huffed.  
“Why?” Javier asked. “Because I called you pretty?”  
“Yes-- I mean, no. I mean...I know I’m pretty...”  
“Good.”  
“But-- But it’s different when a man tells me I’m pretty, okay?”  
“Well, you’re makin’ a lot of men think you’re pretty, especially dressed like that.”  
I felt my face get hot. “I pulled the string out...”  
“It don’t do much.”  
“All the more reason to not be here, but in my tent.”  
“You wanna hide because you’re pretty?”  
“Stop saying I’m pretty. And it’s because everyone is in a stressful situation, so...”  
“I’m good at relieving stress, Evie.”

I looked at him with a sigh. What did he even mean by that? It took a moment for me to figure out what he meant, but that just made my face feel even hotter. I even felt like I was going to be choking on absolutely nothing if he said anything else like that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

I wandered out of my tent with a yawn and headed over to where I could get coffee. The habit of drinking coffee in the morning to wake me up had taken hold. It wasn’t just for headaches anymore. But this morning I didn’t need it to make me pay attention or to make me wake up. Sadie was standing in front of Kieran. I didn’t initially hear what they had been talking about, but I could tell that she was taunting him with food. No one but Mary Beth and I were giving him food. The men ate in front of him, but what she decided to do made me quite angry -- she dumped the bowl of stew on the ground.

“Sadie!” I exclaimed, storming over to her. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”  
“What’s it look like?” she sniffled.  
“What it looks like is that you’re taunting poor Kieran and wasting something that we can’t afford to waste.”  
“He’s an O’Driscoll; why are you defendin’ him?”  
“No, he’s not. And I--”  
“You don’t know what they did to me other than they killed my husband. You ain’t got a clue what it’s like.”

Abigail had just been walking by us when Sadie had said what she said, and it caused her to stop and look at me and then at Sadie. Even Kieran, for the moment, stopped looking so forlorn. I stepped closer to Sadie.

“What don’t I have a clue about, Sadie?” I asked. “What do you know about me? Do you know anything about me besides my name? I know what the O’Driscolls are capable of.”  
“Did Dutch--” she began.  
“I found out on my own what they can do. Colm O’Driscoll is a monster. The O’Driscolls are monsters. You wanna stand there and blame Kieran for something he wasn’t even there for?”  
“How d’ya know he wasn’t there, huh?”

I turned and shouted at Arthur to come over. He hesitantly did so, probably realizing that both Sadie and I were on the verge of an argument that someone would be able to hear from the trail.

“Was Kieran at Sadie’s cabin?” I asked. “All of those O’Driscoll boys are dead, aren’t they?”  
“They are,” he replied slowly. “Hey, wait a goddamn--”  
“He had nothing to do with it.”  
“No. No, he didn’t, but-- Never mind; I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of this.”  
“That don’t prove that you know anything,” Sadie told me when Arthur walked away.  
“I don’t know what it’s like to be tied up for eleven days in the middle of nowhere in a run down cabin?” I asked, my voice condescending. “I don’t know what it’s like to be tied to a table and violated by so many men I lost count? What else don’t I know? Oh, that’s right; I don’t know what it’s like to be gutted and have my baby be taken away to be sent to its father? Tell me, Sadie! Tell me what I don’t know!”

I ended up shouting the last bit loud enough that it caught Arthur’s attention again, and the attention of Susan and Karen. Abigail was still standing there as if she wasn’t sure what she should be doing. She’d been helping Sadie grieve. I wanted to help Sadie, too, but I couldn’t. The O’Driscolls were the one thing we had in common and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her about it. I wasn’t married, either, so the conversations would be so few and far between if I tried to help her. I felt for her; I really did, but the assumptions she made angered me and she was wasting resources because she wanted to blame it on someone who wasn’t even there.

“Sooner or later people are going to stop being sorry for you,” I told her. “So if you want someone to blame, blame Colm O’Driscoll, not someone who wasn’t even part of it.”  
“I didn’t know--” Sadie began.  
“That’s right; you _didn’t_ know. Watch the stuff that comes out of your mouth or next time I’ll slap you so hard you’ll be crying about that instead.”  
“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Abigail said, chuckling awkwardly. “Er, Sadie, why don’t we go over there?”  
I huffed as the two of them walked away and turned to Kieran. “Are you okay? All things considering, I mean.”  
“You’re a scary lady, Evie,” he replied.  
“Only when I need to be. Ever since that time, I mean. It changes a person. I...need to go get ready to head into town... I’ll bring you something later, okay? Or I’ll ask Mary Beth.”

I headed back in the direction of my tent, but I wasn’t going to even make it there before being stopped.

“Miss Locke,” Strauss called, sauntering after me, “Miss Locke!”  
I turned to look at him. “I told you to call me Evie and if you won’t call me that, at least call me Evangeline. What is it?”  
“Does your father ever loan money to people?”  
“I’m not asking my father to give us a loan.”  
“No, no, that is not the reason. Er, how does he deal with debtors?”  
“He doesn’t send someone to beat it out of them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

We were poor and Strauss was giving people loans. If we were so poor, how was that even possible? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with Dutch for even allowing that kind of thing? The money used to give loans could have gone toward the camp. I didn’t understand the point in giving out loans if we could barely afford to buy medicine and extra ammunition. The only reason I was putting so much money into the community box was because with each drink I ended up serving, the men gave me three extra dollars just for myself. That could have been used to buy the things we needed, but I was the only one making a significant amount of money. The ledger wasn’t kind to those who barely put anything in -- because they couldn’t put as much in as I did.

“How long does he wait until he asks for it back?” Strauss wondered. “Does he charge interest?”  
“Mister Strauss,” I said with a scoff, “my daddy is an accountant. He doesn’t give loans to people he knows could never pay them back. He’s...a do-gooder and he gives money to people just for the sake of being a kind person. Loans are given to the people who can afford a loan. Money is given to the people who cannot afford a loan.”  
“That is no way to run a business.”  
“My daddy is the best accountant from Arkansas and all across America. You can’t tell me that’s no way to run a business when it’s been working for him for twenty-three years.”  
“Would he be interested in--”  
“I’m not asking him to handle camp funds. If you want to talk to him for some advice, I could probably ask if he would be okay with it. If you ask me, giving loans when we can’t afford bread is no way to run a business. I am in no mood to be trifled with today; now is that all, Mister Strauss?”  
“Well, I suppose so. Good day, Miss Locke.”

He walked away back to the rock he usually sat at. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way. He didn’t seem like a bad person in general, but when he was sending Arthur out to collect debts I could only imagine what was going on once Arthur reached them. One of these days, I was expecting him to show up covered in blood because he had to beat the debt out of someone. The people who asked for those loans were already desperate enough -- they didn’t need someone like Arthur breathing down their necks. It came with the lifestyle, I supposed, but we were only at Horseshoe Overlook for two weeks and he was already asking for the money back.

“Mister Strauss!” I huffed, storming over to where he was now sitting. “Perhaps I should also mention that my father waits at least two months before expecting anything back. And, to answer your question from earlier, yes, he does charge interest, but only after so much time has passed.”  
“The way Mister Locke came into the camp in Blackwater, he seems much more hardened than you’re explaining him to be,” Strauss replied.  
“That was just Daddy trying to put on a brave face in front of a crowd of criminals. He doesn’t need to worry about money since his money makes money. Most of his clients are people who can afford to pay him handsomely even just for a short five minute telephone conversation. Have a nice day, Mister Strauss.”

I walked back across camp to go into my tent, but stopped short of being able to. Dutch had grabbed my arm and was pulling me back to his own tent. I didn’t bother complaining; he needed to talk to me and the least I could do was let him talk. We spoke everyday, but they weren’t the nicest conversations on my part. Poor Kieran was still tied to the tree and I could see he was just getting even more miserable everyday. It was getting to the point where I even wanted him to talk. I didn’t know what it was that Dutch wanted him to talk about, but he was holding out. Amidst the complaining and the pain he must have felt, he was remaining strong.

“What do you want this time, Dutch?” I asked. “Am I not putting enough money in the box for you? Am I causing a disturbance that you would otherwise turn a blind eye for if it were someone else? Or am I not in your field of view enough for you to ogle me?”  
“You’re doing fine,” Dutch told me. “It ain’t about that. Do you have problems with how we do things around here?”  
“They’re not _problems_, per se. Just...misunderstandings?”

I did have problems with how things were done, but I wasn’t going to incriminate myself like that. It was no secret that I didn’t like Kieran in the situation he was in, though I did understand why he was in it. And Micah, wherever he was, was a problem in and of itself that didn’t need to be mentioned -- almost everyone had a problem with him. And while I was thankful no one told Sadie my whole experience with the O’Driscolls, it would have been nice if someone at least mentioned I knew what she had gone through.

“Oh, what is it that you’re ‘misunderstanding’?” Dutch asked, his voice condescending.  
“Right now, it’s the debts,” I stated, matter-of-factly. “We can’t afford medicine...but we can afford to give other people money.”  
“That’s how you see it. I guess someone who’s never been strapped for cash before wouldn’t understand.”  
“There’s no need to be a jerk about it, Dutch van der Linde. What’s gotten into you?”  
“Stop with the questions. I know what I’m doing. _We_ know what we’re doing.”  
“Okay. If you say so. Oh. What time is it?”

I grabbed Dutch’s pocket watch, looked at it, and then shoved it back into his pocket. If we’d spoken any longer, I was going to be very late for my time at the saloon. I grabbed my money pouch from my tent before heading over to mount Maple. Dutch was just mounting the Count when I left camp, only to catch up with me just as I was heading out of the trees.

“What?” I muttered, stroking Maple’s mane. “I’m in no mood for games, Dutch.”  
“I’m just comin’ along to see you work,” he replied.

By that he meant he wanted to be able to look at me and I couldn’t say a word about it in front of the owner. He looked at me in camp whenever I wasn’t looking; I knew he was because Karen and Mary Beth had mentioned it enough times, and then there were times when I’d look over at him and he looked away quickly. Most times he didn’t even try to hide the fact he was looking at me. It wasn’t like he was the first man from camp to show up at the saloon just to be able to look at me freely, either.  
♞♞♞

I walked over to where Sadie was sitting and reading a book. She didn’t acknowledge my presence until I sat next to her with a sigh. There were no indications that she was going to get up and walk away, but I still felt the need to say what I needed to quickly -- just in case. Only, just as I was opening my mouth to speak, she spoke first.

“Why’re you here?” she asked.  
“To apologize for what I said earlier,” I said, slightly confused.  
“No, I mean... Why are you _here_? You mentioned...well...”  
“I mentioned a baby.”  
“Yeah... That...”  
“I came because of it. I stayed because of what happened and what would happen if I returned to my hometown. Can I say what I need to say, please?”

Sadie sighed and closed her book with a nod. I really hadn’t thought of what I was going to say, at least not in full. Threatening to hit her wasn’t the right thing to do and I honestly felt bad about it after I had managed to calm down a bit. I’d also embarrassed her in front of most of the camp; even if no one really said anything about my shouting, I knew that they heard it. I didn’t want to sound like it was a fake apology, just to make myself feel better. I wanted her to know that I was genuinely sorry.

“I’m sorry for the threat and yelling at you in front of camp,” I said. “When I’m angry, I say things I don’t mean and sometimes I do things I don’t mean.”  
“It’s okay,” Sadie replied.  
“No. No, it’s not okay.”  
“Alright, it ain’t okay, but I forgive you.”  
“If you don’t mind me asking, what was your husband’s name? Tell me about him.”

I didn’t know how long Sadie and I sat together, with her just telling me how her and her husband met. Jake was one of, if not the only, the kindest men she had ever met. He had no trouble splitting the chores with her in and out of the house. Throughout her telling me about him, I kept apologizing. She really loved him and I had gone and told her people would stop caring about what happened to her. Not too many people, according to Dutch, survived Colm O’Driscoll -- and those that did either killed themselves later on, were driven mad, or were completely different after the fact. From what Sadie told me, she was a completely different person from before the O’Driscolls showed up to her house. If Dutch, Arthur, and Micah hadn’t shown up, she’d probably be dead.

“It ain’t as bad as what happened to you,” Sadie mentioned.  
“Don’t do that,” I immediately said. “We both went through something horrific because of the O’Driscolls. I never meant for it to sound like what I went through was worse; not ever. As a camp, we’re in a very bad monetary and rations situation, and I can understand the value in not wasting anything.”  
“What about that O’Driscoll boy?”  
“Well, he’s not an O’Driscoll, for one. And for two, he’s the only one who didn’t touch me when I was stuck at that cabin. Even if it hadn’t been for Bonnie’s encouragement, those O’Driscolls would have done what they did regardless. She just...stoked the flame, but Kieran took no part in it. The only one who didn’t use me.”  
“I-I’m sorry, but...who’s Bonnie? I overheard some of those bastards mention her a few times, and...”  
“She’s my mother. Really not maternal at all. She even beat me when I was tied up in that cabin.”

There was a long moment of silence between us. I’d been betrayed by my mother, had my baby taken from me, and used like I was just some sort of object. Sadie had been attacked in her own home, had her husband taken from her, and also used like she was some sort of object. We’d both been through a lot because of Colm O’Driscoll; the difference was that she blamed Kieran and I didn’t. Kieran hadn’t been the one to gut me and he hadn’t been the one to murder Jake. Maybe it was easier for her to blame someone she could see all the time.

“Do you still talk to its father?” Sadie wondered.  
“It’s a little hard not to when he lives in the same camp,” I mumbled quietly.  
“What? Who is it? I ain’t seen you actin’ sweet on nobody.”  
“It’s because we didn’t love each other the way I thought we did. It’s Dutch. Well, I... Dutch keeps trying to convince me he did love me -- or that he _does_ love me and I keep trying to figure out if I loved him or if I loved his stories. I told him it was his stories, but sometimes I’m not too sure.”  
“The ladies keep sayin’ you’re sweet on Javier, Charles, and...Sean, I think his name is.”  
“I’m not!”  
“Your voice cracked.”  
“If you’ll please excuse me...I need to...be somewhere else...”

I scurried off to sit at the table to be by myself. It was too early to return to my tent; if I tried to hide inside it, I would only be dragged out by Susan or Abigail or somebody else because they couldn’t find me. Luckily Micah wasn’t around to bother me, either; something about going out and making money to put into the community box. After a while of just sitting there by myself, Dutch came over and sat on the edge of the table.

“What do you want now?” I asked. “Didn’t look at me enough at the saloon?”  
“You doin’ alright?” he asked.  
“Is that a rhetorical question or do you want an actual answer?”  
“An actual answer would be nice.”  
“No, I’m not alright. We’re poor, in the middle of nowhere, O’Driscolls are around, and I’m bored. Even with all the extra money I get during my time at the saloon, I’m still not close enough to being able to get clothes suitable for hunting. If I have to darn one more sock, Dutch, I’m going to scream.”  
“Beats being on that mountain, Evie.” He took a puff of his cigar and sighed. “I know your father is in Strawberry; go see him.”  
“I can’t travel that far by myself and he wouldn’t let Charles or Javier inside. He barely wanted to let Sean inside when we went to go see him. I think it’s best to go see him only when I absolutely have to.”  
“Well,” Dutch stood up, “there’s only one other thing I can think of to cure that boredom of yours.”  
“No. I don’t care how frustrated you are.”

Dutch rolled his eyes and walked away. When was he going to let up? I had come so far, so why did he think I was going to slip up and go back to him like that, even if it was for just one night? I’d only ever been with him and he certainly had his ways of making me feel good. I _did_ miss feeling good, but it had been such a long time by now that it didn’t matter if I missed it or not. I groaned and set my head down on the table.

“Everything okay?” Charles asked as he wandered past.  
I quickly looked up. “No.”  
“Are you, uh, feeling okay at least?”  
“No, I’m not.”  
“It’s...all that extra attention at the saloon, right?”  
“It’s like there’s no shortage of people like Micah. But why am I complaining? You warned me about the saloon and I didn’t listen. I think I’ll just...go to bed early and see if I can start early tomorrow.”  
“Okay. Er, well, if you need help sleeping, I’ll be there.”  
“I think it’s best if I’m alone tonight, Charles, but thank you.”

The night was a complete blur; I wasn’t even sure if I slept. One moment I could hear owls hooting and the next I could hear birds waking up for the day. I should have just stayed in the tent for longer, but boredom was everywhere and sleep was evading me. Leaving my tent, I realized the only ones awake were Susan and Pearson, getting ready for the day ahead. I let Susan know I was heading to the saloon early and went on my way. Never did I ever think that a saloon would have people in it so early in the morning. Granted, it was only a small handful of people. The owner wasn’t going to give me more time, but instead said I could work as early as I wanted and could leave earlier.

In the early afternoon, Javier came into the saloon. Instead of sitting where he usually did, he stood at the bar. I was picking drinks up for a table when he grabbed my arm. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything, but I knew he would, at least, give me a break from the comments of the other patrons.

“You okay, _amiga_?” he asked.  
“I wish people would stop asking me that,” I sighed. “What is it that you want, Javier? I will get it for you. Just do not ask me for a kiss; I have heard enough of that today.”  
“A smile would be a good start. You’re pretty, but there’s somethin’ in your smile that is _tan dulce_.”  
“You...” I huffed. “You know I do not speak Spanish.”  
“I know.”  
“You are not here just because I am working, are you?”  
“No, I’m meeting Charles and Bill here in a bit.”  
“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” I picked up the tray of drinks with a sigh. “I am off in thirty minutes, though, so if you do not need anything, I will see you later.”

Even in the early afternoon, there were a lot of people in the saloon. Didn’t any of these people have jobs or families or even cattle to pay attention to? Where did they all come from? Most of them were polite enough to just look at me; others, not so much. Getting looked at was one thing, but getting manhandled was something else completely. I’d complained about it once, once, and the owner wasn’t pleased about it. I knew what I’d been getting myself into, so there was no use complaining. I didn’t want to be there at night when the place was full.

At the end, I collected what I was owed. I decided to just be done with it and head over to the general store to get clothes suitable for hunting. More and more women were beginning to wear pants, but the grand majority still wore dresses. Wearing pants wasn’t all that popular for ladies in general. During the time it took me to look at clothes, count the money, and pay for what I needed, a brawl started at the saloon. I should have just gone and worked at the smaller saloon -- if I’d not asked to work earlier, I’d be walking into a mess that I’d have to clean up. I wandered up to Maple and listened. From the sound of what was going on, it was Bill who had started everything. It didn’t take long for him to get drunk, did it? I realized it was time to go when Arthur was thrown through the front window.

On my way out of town, Dutch and Trelawny, really the last man I expected to come around, were just heading in.

“Bill started a fight at the saloon,” I mentioned, causing them to stop.  
“Of course he did,” Dutch sighed. “Javier and Charles there?”  
“I imagine so. Arthur, too. Good afternoon, Josiah.”  
“Good to see you, Evangeline,” Trelawny replied. “Dutch tells me you’re working at the saloon?”  
“I only serve drinks. It’s honest work.”  
“Yes, of course.”  
“Well, I’d better get back to-- Wait, how did you know where we are? Never mind; I don’t think I want to know. Dutch, I’ll see you back at camp. See you...whenever, Josiah.”  
“Good day.”

I rode back to camp. After hitching Maple up, I put my things in my tent and headed over to the community box. Whatever was leftover from my days work and all the extra money I had gotten and saved up, I placed it in. It wasn’t as much as usual, but at least I’d be able to go hunting again. At least that would keep me from darning anymore socks or pounding clothes with rocks to help get mystery stains out.

“I dunno what I like lookin’ at more,” Micah said, walking past me, “your front or your back.”  
“Can you please leave me alone for one day?” I asked, looking at him.  
“Definitely the front.”  
“Don’t you have something better to do, like go terrorize a village?”  
“What are ya gonna do, _kick me_?”

Lenny was just walking past -- just minding his own business, honestly -- and so I ended up grabbing his knife from where he kept it. He looked confused, as if he had no idea what he had walked into, and I really couldn’t blame him. It had been sudden, that was for sure. I held the tip of the knife against Micah’s groin.

“I will chop it off and ask Pearson to cook it and I will shove it down your throat myself,” I threatened.  
“There’s somethin’ about you when you get angry that just gets me so hot, princess,” he said, though from the tone in his voice I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic.  
I handed Lenny his knife back. “Hey, Evie, why don’t you come with me?” he asked.  
“Ain’t she a little old for you, kid? She _does_ favour darkies, though, so--”  
“Shut up. C’mon.”

Lenny expected me to follow him. Just when I thought about following him, though, I stopped. I kicked Micah harder in the groin than I had the first time, and then when he keeled over I kneed him in the face. He was lucky I didn’t have any of my shoes I left in Arkansas. I had one pair that had such a pointed front that I’d probably end up drawing blood. That was an embarrassing doctor’s visit if he ended up going.

“How’re you gettin’ on?” Lenny asked when I caught up with him. “You’re really angry lately.”  
“I’m bored,” I replied, “I’ve never been poor before, and my body and clothes aren’t helping anything, and Sean still isn’t here.”  
“You’re sweet on--”  
“No, I’m not.” I exhaled sharply. “I’d like to change the subject.”  
“What kinda books do you like to read?”  
“I read a lot of Shakespeare before I came with Dutch. When I was little, I read a lot of those Penny Dreadful books. What book are you always over there reading?”  
“Nothin’ too excitin’, really.”  
“Evie!” Mary Beth called.  
“Excuse me, Lenny,” I mumbled.

I wandered over to where Mary Beth was standing. She didn’t look panicked or worried about anything, so whatever it was wasn’t bad.

“Has Kieran eaten today?” she asked.  
“I’ve been at the saloon,” I said, matter-of-factly. “If you’re asking me, I’m assuming you haven’t given him food.”  
“No.”  
“Well, am I gonna do it, then, or are you? Why can’t you just ask Miss Grimshaw? She always seems to see things we don’t.”  
“She ain’t gonna tell us if he did or not.” Mary Beth let out a loud sigh. “I’ll get him food.”  
“Miss Locke!” someone shouted from the other side of camp. “Get over here and get to work!”  
“I already _did work_!” I shouted back.

It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Susan who had actually done the shouting. After, I scurried over to where there was a pile of socks that needed to be darned. She didn’t look pleased at all that I’d screamed at her; I wasn’t pleased with myself. I learned that if she told someone to do something, they had better do it or they’d get yelled at until they were on the verge of tears. Luckily it never had come to that point with me and I wasn’t about to let it happen.

“Yeah, that’s what I damn well thought,” Susan snapped.  
“I’m sorry, Miss Grimshaw,” I mumbled. “I really didn’t mean it.”  
“Get your act together.”  
“Those boys have been gone for a while, now,” Karen said.  
“Ain’t that a good thing?” Tilly asked. “Dutch goin’ out is weird, though. He barely goes out anymore.”  
“How’s the saloon?” Abigail wondered.  
“The last I saw the inside of it, it was clean,” I replied. “The last I saw of the outside, well...Arthur got tossed out a window and now it’s broken. Just glad I won’t have to be there to clean it up.”  
“I meant workin’ there.”  
“The attention isn’t nice. I get enough here. The money is fine, I guess.”  
“Did you bump into _Javier and Charles_?” Karen teased.  
“Javier, yes. Why did you say it like that?”  
“Oh, Evie, you know why,” Tilly giggled.  
“How many times do I have to tell you that they’re not-- That I’m not-- Why do you keep insisting?”  
“You’re in denial, dear,” Abigail told me. “Sooner or later you’re gonna have to come ’round.”

I didn’t say anything else; I just continued to darn the socks that I wanted to toss into the campfire. After a while, I did begin to realize just how strange it was that the men were still gone. Well, Bill had come in at some point and started drinking. Brawling was hard work, evidently. I was beginning to assume the worst for Javier and Charles -- what was taking them so long? And Arthur I could understand needing to rest immediately after being tossed out a window. The second I saw Dutch ride back into camp, I ran up to him.

“Good to see you didn’t burn the camp down,” he said as he got off the Count.  
“Very funny, Dutch,” I huffed. “Are they okay?”  
“They’re fine, Evie -- who do you think you’re talkin’ about?”  
“Well...I mean...the other ladies and I noticed they’ve been gone for a while...”  
“Charles and Javier are looking into something.”  
“Someone is always looking into--”  
“Trelawny located Sean. That’s why he was here.”

I felt speechless, honestly. Dutch had said it as if he was worried. Well, of course he was worried; it would be wrong not to be worried. The only one who made it known that they were worried was me and occasionally Karen when she was drunk. If Sean was still in Blackwater, though, how were Charles and Javier going to get him?

“You couldn’t tell me when I was on my way out of Valentine?” I breathed.  
“I didn’t know, either, until Trelawny and me found Charles, Javier, Bill, and Arthur at the saloon,” he admitted, beginning to walk toward his tent. “Arthur’s gone to join them finding him.”  
“Will they bring him back?”

I scurried after him.

“If they can, they will,” Dutch replied. “He’s being held by bounty hunters. I don’t know how many, so don’t ask. I want him back with us just as much as you do.”  
“Well...at least Josiah was doing something about Sean...” I muttered.  
“For a girl who says she ain’t sweet on him, you sure as hell act like you are.”  
My face became hot. “Excuse me for being scared and concerned that Sean could have been dead all this time.”  
“You ain’t worrying over Mac.”  
“Well, that’s... That is, er...”  
“You got all these boys sweet on you and you’re sweet on most of ’em, too.”  
“They’re not and I’m not! I-If you’ll excuse me, I...need to go over there...”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“For Christ’s sake, would you _stop_ pacing around?” Dutch shouted.  
“No,” I snapped back.  
“Pacing ain’t gonna make the time go any faster!”  
“You yelling at me isn’t going to make me stop, either, so I guess we’re both out of luck!”

It had been a good couple of hours since Dutch told me that Charles, Javier, and Arthur were going to see if they could bring Sean back. However many bounty hunters were around, I was sure that they would be okay. It was the waiting that bothered me. The three of them could be perfectly fine, but what about Sean? Just because he was being held by bounty hunters didn’t mean he was going to be okay.

“Abigail paced when John was missing and you didn’t say anything about it,” I muttered.  
“What?” Dutch asked.  
“Do you hear things you only want to hear or did you actually not hear me?”  
“I heard you just fine.”  
“You two argue like an old married couple; give it a rest,” Hosea said as he wandered by us. “Evie, just sit down and relax. Ain’t nothin’ we can do but wait.”  
“Fine,” I grumbled.

I stormed over to a table and sat down with a huff. Karen joined me, bringing along a couple socks for us to darn together. She probably just wanted all the shouting and pacing to stop, too; I was sure everyone did. I was almost sure Bill left to hunt because he was fed up with the constant walking by his tent while he was trying to nurse the bruises he got in the fight he started. Micah and Lenny... I don’t even know where they could have run off to. It wasn’t like I _wanted_ to annoy everyone; it’s just what I did when I was worried. The only other thing I could have done was cry and that probably would have just been worse.

“You doin’ okay?” Karen wondered. “You seem awful worried.”  
“Isn’t everyone worried?” I replied.  
“I ain’t. I hope they hang that bastard before he can be rescued.”  
“Karen...you’re worried. And as much as you say you don’t like him, I know you like him.”  
“Why is it that when we tell you that these men are sweet on you and you’re sweet on them, you say ‘no’ and we gotta accept it? But when _I_ say I don’t like Sean, you try to convince me otherwise?”  
“Because they aren’t and...I’m not...”  
“Please. I saw tears in your eyes when Dutch told you they went for Sean. And don’t even think we don’t know about you cryin’ on that mountain. Just ’cause we were in a storm for three days don’t mean we didn’t see Charles tryin’ to get you to stop.”  
“I-I was crying from the cold...”  
“Yeah, sure. You ain’t cryin’ or pacin’ over Mac bein’ missing.”  
“It’s hard to miss someone I’ve never really spent a lot of time with.”  
“So if Dutch went missin’, you’d be like this, too?”  
“I don’t... Um... Maybe...?”

Karen gave me a side eye that told me she didn’t believe me at all. I didn’t cry over Jenny or Davey dying, either; I felt bad about them dying, but I was more worried about John when he went missing for Abigail and Jack’s sake. John and I barely spoke, too, but we at least managed to say hello to each other whenever we saw one another. It was difficult to mourn people who I never spoke to or who never spoke to me. As for Dutch, if anything ever happened to him... Well, the gang was his. Things would fall apart if anything ever happened, like if he went missing or if he died, or...whatever else could happen. Just because we almost always argued it didn’t mean I ever stopped caring about him. I just didn’t love him and it wasn’t fair to him or me if I pretended. And even if he still tried to convince me he loved me, I knew it wasn’t the case.

“If any of you ladies went missing, I’d be worrying like this, too,” I said.  
“Well, that’s awful kind,” Karen replied. “You’re stuck with us. But y’know, speakin’ of being sweet on people...what’s goin’ on with you and that O’Driscoll boy?”  
“He’s not an O’Driscoll.”  
“Okay, fine, but what’s goin’ on?”  
“I’ve told enough people why I’m being nice to him. Ask someone else. I’m tired of explaining myself about it.”  
  
I was tired of many things already, but explaining myself over and over about something was getting tiring. I really could have just gone hunting and passed the time doing that, but I probably wouldn’t even be able to concentrate. There was no way I could catch anything if I kept constantly asking if Sean was back at camp or not, and if I should just go back and wait. The pacing was doing no one any good, the yelling was exhausting, and I wanted to scream because of all the socks that always seemed to need darning. I could swear I darned the exact sock I was darning several times already just from being at Horseshoe. Maybe it wouldn’t have been bad to just head back to the saloon and help with the clean up -- that way my mind could be on getting the place suitable again and not worrying over whether or not Charles, Javier, and Arthur got killed or captured trying to get Sean back.

“You just went back to worryin’,” Karen mentioned.  
“No, I didn’t,” I lied.  
“Yes, you did. You got a look on your face when you’re worried.”  
“How do you know?”  
“We all got to know it back in Blackwater, with your worryin’ with the boat job. You keep worryin’ like this and you’re gonna get sick.”

I set the sock down. I had a “worried” face? Where had that come from? Cornelius didn’t have a worried face; he had a worried tone in his voice. It was probably just another thing I got from Bonnie, but when was she ever worried? Well, at least I didn’t _sound_ like her. I didn’t sound like either of my parents. I didn’t have Cornelius’ very English accent, aside from when I copied it, and I didn’t have Bonnie’s light Scottish accent. It was strange really; if we had ever been a family and I didn’t look like a carbon copy of Bonnie herself, people might have thought I was adopted.

“Everybody’s got their problems,” Karen mentioned. “Reverend, he drinks all the time and sticks morphine in his arms. I drink all the time, too. Abigail and John always argue. Er, what I’m tryin’ to say is, we ain’t tellin’ you that you shouldn’t worry. We’re just tellin’ you that, well, doin’ it so much ain’t good for you.”  
“Lots of things aren’t good for me,” I sighed.  
“Hey, Evie, get over here!” Pearson called over.  
“Before I do, what do you want?”  
“Come chop these vegetables.”

I looked at Karen and then at Pearson.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked.  
“I said, chop these vegetables for the stew,” he repeated.  
“Does it look like I know how to chop vegetables?”  
“It ain’t that hard!”  
“If it’s not hard to chop vegetables, why don’t you do it?”  
“A pretty lady like you’s gotta know how to chop vegetables if you ever wanna get a husband!”

I didn’t know if should be insulted or complimented. On one hand, it was flattering to think that I was wife material. On the other hand, it was alarming to realize just how little Pearson came. He really thought I wasn’t going to stick around. I wasn’t wife material, at least not to someone in the upper class. But really, how many of the gang was actually married?

“No, thank you, Pearson,” I said.  
“He prob’ly just wants an excuse to stare at you,” Karen muttered. “Watchin’ you chop vegetables would give him that excuse.”  
“If he wants a lady to stare at, maybe he should go pay one to stand there and look pretty. It’s not a compliment from someone like you!” I added with a shout.  
“Other than bein’ worried...and bored...you doin’ okay?”  
“No, Karen.”  
“I know you don’t sleep very much. Hey, we never said it, but me and the other ladies are sorry it took so long to be nice to you.”  
“Do you think if it hadn’t happened I would still not be accepted?”  
“I dunno, but...you’re stuck with us now, like I said.”

I picked up the sock and continued to darn it. I’d always known what it would have been like if I stayed in Arkansas, but I’d gotten close enough with the ladies that I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if I hadn’t been kidnapped. Well, I’d still be pregnant -- very pregnant. Maybe with the stresses of the kind of life as a person nearly on the run, it wouldn’t have been a wise decision to bring another child into it. I was having a hard time enough as it is -- what would have happened if I couldn’t handle a baby on top of everything else? And escaping through a blizzard and stuck on a mountain while heavily pregnant didn’t sound like a very fun, or even good, adventure. I wished I still was pregnant. I missed having something good to look forward to. Maybe Dutch and I would have still been on better terms, too.

“You feelin’ ill?” Karen asked.  
“What?” I sniffled.  
“You’re huggin’ your belly.”

Indeed I was. I quickly placed my hands back on the table with a sigh.

“It’s nothing,” I lied. “The sun is going down and it’s getting cold, is all. I’ll be right back.”  
“Alright,” Karen said, sounding skeptical.

While it was getting a bit chilly out, I really wasn’t feeling well. I wasn’t going to be sick; it was just that I felt... Well, I didn’t know what I felt. It felt like I needed to cry, scream, and hurt myself all at once. After the fact, I always felt responsible for what happened, even if it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the one who gutted myself. I had to stop thinking about it, otherwise I was going to be sick and I really was going to do something I’d end up regretting. Shrugging my jacket on, I stepped back outside the tent to return to Karen.

“You sure you’re alright?” she murmured.  
“I’m not sure of most things,” I replied.  
“We’re gonna have a party when Sean returns. Watch.” Karen let out a sigh. “There’ll be enough distractions for you there.”

Before I could ask what she meant, Charles rode into the camp, only he was alone. Karen kept me from wandering over, probably thinking whatever I was going to talk to him about would send me into even _more_ worry. There was no reason to continue worrying, though; because Javier came in a few moments later with Sean riding with him.

“Christ,” Karen muttered. “He really is okay.”

I wanted to run up to him to make sure he was okay, but Sean needed to be with his family before I decided to crowd him. Well, I was part of the family, too, apparently, though I thought it would be better if he had some time with everyone else first. Karen didn’t leave her spot, either, but she looked up at me like I’d grown another head.

“You spent this whole time cryin’ and worryin’ and you ain’t even gonna go over there?” she asked. “What, got butterflies or somethin’?”  
“It looks like he’s got enough coddling,” I said.

Susan was checking to make sure he wasn’t badly hurt and Mary Beth was poking him to check if anything was broken or not. Then there were the people asking if he was okay. As much as almost everyone thought Sean was annoying, they cared about him and they had been worried, too. I didn’t need to go over there and ask if he was okay -- he’d probably be asked that enough times before I was able to get a moment alone with him. From where I was standing, he looked and sounded just fine.

“You gonna go over there?” Javier asked, stopping at the table.  
“Why would I?” Karen replied. “Should’ve left him to hang.”  
“What about you, Evie?”  
“In-In a minute...” I said quietly.  
“You ain’t feeling shy all of a sudden, are you? It’s just Sean.”  
“She’s sweet on him, but she won’t say she is,” Karen told him.  
“Karen!” I gasped, my face becoming hot.  
“That so?” Javier sighed.  
“You gonna tell him or am I?” Karen wondered.  
“You stop that, Karen Jones,” I huffed.

Everyone left Sean alone; they’d given him a coat -- the one I could only assume he wore when the weather wasn’t freezing cold -- and went to open more whiskey boxes than were already opened and to finish preparing stew. Even when no one was around him now, I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him. All that time spent lamenting and worrying about Sean, I couldn’t find the courage to wander over. It took Karen standing and shoving me in the direction of him to actually make me begin walking over, quickly. He wasn’t facing my direction and I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth to say anything. I ended up pulling on his arm.

“Hey there, Evie,” he said when he turned around. “What a _sight_ you are.”  
“Um...” I mumbled.  
“Cat got your tongue, huh?”  
“I...er... Wel-Welcome back...”  
“Why d’ya look so sad? Didn’t ya miss me?”  
“Well...I...”

Before I could say anything that sounded like a proper sentence, Susan called Sean over to help her with something. I felt like an outright idiot. All that time spent just thinking of Sean and I couldn’t say anything proper to him? I ran over to my tent to retrieve his hat; at least I’d managed to save that when leaving Blackwater. He was helping Susan get his bedroll out of one of the wagons and was just carrying it to his tent when I ran up to him.

“Here,” I squeaked, holding the hat out to him.  
“I was wonderin’ about that,” he told me, taking it and putting it on. “Thanks.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What for? Not sayin’ anythin’ over there? It’s the MacGuire charm, ain’t it? Cat don’t got your tongue; I do.”  
“Sean--”  
“Evie, come over here,” Dutch said.

I huffed and walked over to where Dutch was standing, at the front of his tent. What was it now? Was he going to scold me for all the annoyance I had caused and not done anything about it? Was he going to yell at me for something I didn’t know I did? I never knew with him. I was trying to find the words to talk to Sean and he wasn’t even letting me have that.

“You can get rid of that forlorn look on your face,” Dutch sighed, patting my shoulder. “This ain’t a time for yelling at each other.”  
“What is it, then?” I replied quietly.  
“We’re gonna have a party, Evie. Sometimes people need to be reminded to settle down and with all the worryin’ you did, you need to just have fun, even if it’s for one night. So have a drink or...ten...however many it takes for you to calm down, and have a good time.”  
“Okay. Thank you, Dutch.”  
♞♞♞

“You’ve been n-ursing that same bottle of wh-skey for thirty m-inutes,” Karen hiccuped.  
“I don’t always drink fast,” I admitted. “And I used to never drink much, anyway.”  
“Wha-t’s that mean?”  
“Dutch used to finish my whiskey.”  
“_Well_...ain’t nob-ody gonna finish you-r whiskey _here_. So ya best get drinkin’!”

Karen giggled and leaned against me as she took another swig from her bottle. Which one was she on? In comparison to, well, _everybody_, I was a very slow drinker. I didn’t want to drink too much too fast and lose control of myself. There was a cliff nearby and if I blacked out hard enough, I probably would think I could fly and the best case was that I only hurt myself and broke a couple bones. Dutch told me to have fun, not to be an idiot.

“Don’t you w-orry about a t-hing,” Karen continued. “I ain’t tellin’ nobody about who you’re sweet on. The l-adies already kno-w; I d-on’t think the m-en do.”  
“You should lay off the whiskey for a few minutes,” I sighed.  
“Or-r-r-r-r _you_ could d-rink faster. C’mon -- it’s a p-arty! W-hat b-ottle are ya on?!”  
“Two.”  
“You should b-e on f-our or more by now! Let your h-air down! Dr-ink! Be happy!”

She got up and walked away, downing the last of the bottle she was currently holding. There was no waiting, either; she immediately went and grabbed a new bottle. It was a party, but she regularly drank, too; it was just an excuse to drink even more. She was stumbling around enough as it was and she was just going to add to it. I finished the last of the bottle I had and waited. I really didn’t want to drink continuously, but would it make a difference if I waited ten minutes or not to have another one? I’d not said a word or made a sound around Sean since Dutch needed to speak with me. If I was going to have an excuse to drink more, it was that I needed confidence.

“Everything alright?” Dutch asked as I walked past his tent.  
“Sean’s back,” I replied. “Everything might not be alright, but him being back is turning things around, I suppose.”  
“That ain’t what I mean. You look upset about somethin’.”  
“I’m fixing it.”  
“I told you -- have a good time. What is he doin’?”

I turned around so see Sean standing on one of the boxes usually sitting around the campfire. It was a speech, for sure. Most of the things he said I didn’t know if he was serious about or not. Then again, he, too, was already so drunk that when he walked around it wasn’t straight up or...well, straight. There was going to be a lot of stumbling around from a lot of people eventually.

“You heard the boy, too,” Dutch said when Sean stumbled off the box. “Have a good time. Drink faster; it’s gonna help.”  
“Help with what?” I asked.  
“Having fun.”

I walked around the camp drinking from the new bottle I’d picked up. The more I drank, I realized it was easier to. I’d realized that a while ago. Bad taste was eventually switched out for good taste because I didn’t even notice it was bad anymore. Now while I was thinking about how much more I could handle, I found Charles just at the entrance to the camp. He wasn’t standing watch; no one was.

“You’re not gonna join?” I mumbled.  
“Parties ain’t really my thing,” he admitted. “You should go back, though. Enjoy yourself.”  
“I’m sorry; I should have asked before -- do you want to be alone?”  
“It’s...been a long day, Evie.”  
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Okay, Charles. I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

I wandered over to the table that Karen was sitting at. She seemed rather giddy from how much she’d already drank and I didn’t think she had any intention of stopping soon. How was she able to put some much whiskey away? How was _Sean_ able to put so much whiskey away? Was it because he was Irish? I wondered how I was managing to put a second bottle away, myself. I called myself crazy, but I was already planning on going back for a third. Cornelius was able to put a lot of alcohol away before he even became slightly tipsy. And Bonnie... Well, I didn’t know. She was Scottish, so I could only assume she was able to put a lot away and not get tipsy at all.

“Evie?” Dutch said as I walked by his tent again.  
“Mm-hm?”  
“Would you dance with me?”

That wasn’t a question I had been prepared to hear, at least not from him. Could he even dance? I was surprised the subject of dancing had never come up in any of our conversations, especially the ones we’d had in the saloon we used to meet up at. Well, it was a proper occasion to dance, at least, and Dutch seemed tipsy. With any luck, maybe he wouldn’t remember that I was going to say yes.

“Of course,” I murmured, setting my whiskey down. “Put those years of dance lessons to good use.”

Cornelius spent so much money getting me a private dance teacher all the way from France. I never danced unless we went to a fancy party being held by the mayor or in the next town over. I’d never exactly gotten the hang of it, but I was passable. Most people thought it was quite simple -- I couldn’t count the times that my foot had gotten stepped on and I couldn’t count the times I’d stepped on someone else’s foot. But like me, Dutch was passable. Well, he was actually quite good. Above my skill, at least. It was nice to be doing something with him that wasn’t arguing or screaming at each other. I didn’t like it when we were at each other’s throats; it happened so often that others probably thought I did enjoy it. Really, I couldn’t stand it and it only ever made me feel worse, and I could see that it made Dutch upset, too.

“You finally enjoyin’ yourself?” he inquired.  
“I’m getting there,” I replied. “I realize I’ve been...insufferable...the last couple of weeks.”  
“Bein’ sweet on people does things like that.”  
“But I’m not--”  
“Oh, no, there’s no use lyin’ to me, Evie. Don’t think I ain’t seen how you look at Charles and Javier, and how you look at Sean. I know.”  
It took a moment for me to say anything. “You’re not mad, are you?”  
“I said you could move on. I thought you might need my blessin’.”  
“You know I’m always going to have a soft spot for you, Dutch.”  
“Of course you are. If things turned out differently, then maybe we wouldn’t always be at each other’s throats. If you ever wanna come back, you can.”

The music on the gramophone ended and Dutch let me go. I squeezed his hand before picking up my whiskey and walking away. I quickly downed the bottle and grabbed another one. This one I decided to nurse for a little while at the campfire. Javier was playing his guitar opposite of me. Did I really look at him a certain way? Did I really look at any of them a certain way? Maybe it wasn’t obvious to me, because I clearly couldn’t see my own face. But wouldn’t I have been able to feel my expression change if I looked at anyone a different way? Just sitting there, contemplating, I managed to get through half the bottle in not even ten minutes.

“You look so-o-o-o serious,” Karen teased.  
“I’m just thinking,” I replied.  
“Ooh, smart girl is thinkin’.”  
“I think I’m just...gonna go over there...”

“Over there” was my tent. I finished up the bottle quickly and stood in front of the flaps, wondering if I should just call it a night or not. Dutch knew about Charles, Javier, and Sean -- did that mean everyone knew? Did _they_ themselves know? That was too much comprehension for a drunk brain. I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t know what was happening. I was aware of what was happening and I was aware of Sean hopefully walking past me.

“Hey, d’ya love me yet?” he asked.

He was not walking past me. He had been walking toward me for a reason. And now he was teasing me like he did before the boat job.

“I wonder that myself,” I admitted.  
“You were worried ’bout me, weren’t ya?” Sean continued. “Had that sad look on you’re face when I left.”  
“Obviously I was worried. And then this all happened.” I poked him in his chest. “I had cause to be worried.”  
“You sure did. One hundred bounty hunters, I’m tellin’ ya. But I’m back and you’re lookin’ as pretty as ever.”  
I sniffled. “Sean, I was so worried.”  
“Hey, now, don’t go cryin’. I’m fine.” He grabbed the front of my jacket and pulled me closer to him. “They thought a hundred could stop me? Pffft. Nothin’ to worry about.”  
“That’s not nothing. How did you even get caught?”  
“Got a right bonk on the head. Couldn’t catch me otherwise.”

Sean let out a chuckle, but that only made me start crying more than just a sniffle.

“Wha-- Hey, you ain’t supposed to be cryin’,” he said. “You’re s’posed to be happy. Like I told Javier, the joy’s back in your lives.”  
“You... You’re...” I stammered. “I was scared, you know.”  
“I know.”  
“You should...go back to your party...”  
“And what? Miss out on you?”  
“You do realize you only call me pretty when you’re drunk?”  
“Do I?”

He didn’t notice he only ever called me that when he’d been drinking. Of course he didn’t notice. Why would he? The alcohol probably gave him some extra courage to say what he really thought about women. Otherwise if he was sober he would continue talking and never shut up.

“My face is pretty,” I sniffled. “My body may be small, but it’s not the same as it used to be.”  
“So?” Sean snorted. “You’re still very pretty.”

Sean was serious, wasn’t he? There were no signals that he was going to stop calling me pretty. Would he stop if I agreed? Would he stop if I shoved him away? I didn’t want to do, either; I didn’t want to come across as so vain in front of him and I didn’t want him to go away, either. But I only knew one of them would stop him from calling me pretty. I rubbed at my eyes with a shaky sigh.

“So...did ya miss me?” he asked.  
“Of course I did!” I quickly replied.  
“Really? Were ya beside yourself and cryin’?”  
“Yes, stupid, I was.”

I shoved him slightly with a sniffle. What did he expect me to say? “No”? I was crying in front of him because I’d been scared and worried about him. Did he think I just spent a whole month not thinking about him and now that he was back all my feelings returned?

“Wait, really?” he asked, sounding shocked.  
“Yes, really!” I sobbed. “Stop asking me ‘really’.”  
“I was just...expectin’ sarcasm...”  
“There’s nothing to be sarcastic about, Sean. Come in.”

He came with me into my tent and kissed me. It had been on my mind for a good amount of time; I just never had the confidence to ask for it. Sean was able to get the hint, no problem. He held me close and he held me tight. Maybe doing it in camp wasn’t the greatest decision, but it wasn’t as if we could ride into Valentine -- people in the camp would know then what was going on. Well, if no one could find Sean and I then they would know, too, but riding out would be even more obvious.

He wasn’t impatient, but I could tell he really wanted to get to it. I laid down on my cot and pulled him down on top of me. Upon pushing my petticoat up and finding his bearings, I yelped.

“What?” he panted. “Everythin’ okay?”  
“It’s-It’s been a while since...” I breathed, “since I did this...”  
He let out a small laugh. “Me and you both.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

What a bad idea to drink so much. My head felt like it was being split in two. Mostly everyone else looked like they weren’t having a good morning, either, but some had bounced back like they hadn’t drank at all. I vaguely remembered what happened the night before. I remembered Karen and Dutch telling me to have more fun, and I just about remembered dancing with Dutch, too. I’d woken up with Sean in my cot and I was in pain, so I could only assume that we had had sex at some point. It wasn’t that that was making me have regrets; never. It was that I couldn’t remember much of anything happen.

“Morning, Evie,” Javier said as he walked by. “You had fun last night.”  
“I guess I did,” I groaned. “Why is the sun so bright?”  
“You ain’t going to work like this, are you?”  
“Work?” I perked up slightly. “Do I work today?”  
“You been working everyday since you started at the saloon.”  
I groaned again and covered my face. “How could I be so irresponsible?”  
“We still haven’t had a drink together.”  
“Javier, I’m sorry.”

I rested my head down on the table. My head was going to split in two; at least that’s how it felt. How was I going to be able to work if I felt this bad? I wanted to damn Karen and Dutch for encouraging my drinking, but at the same time I knew no one was to blame but myself. Maybe it was the day to finally go see my father in Strawberry. Perhaps I could ask him for some money to cover what I would have made at the saloon. No. No, I couldn’t do that. That wouldn’t be right.

“Here,” Javier sighed, making me look up. “Drink this.”

He had set his tin cup with coffee on the table. I grabbed it and took little sips of it. Well, at least it was _something_.

“It ain’t much,” he mentioned. “Should help you feel a bit better, though.”  
“Thank you,” I grumbled. “What are you up to today?”  
“Dunno yet. Pearson said he needs more meat, so I might go hunting. Might hold up a stage.”  
“A stage...? You mean a stagecoach?”  
“Yeah. If you’re not working today, what are you gonna do?”  
“Probably go see Daddy. Dutch thinks I should go see him and I miss him, anyway.”  
“Need someone to go with you?”

Javier was willing to come with me to see Cornelius, but my father had been uncomfortable with Sean there. He hadn’t said it, but he had been so rigid while he sat and he hesitated to allow him into the room in the first place. I didn’t want to think how he would react if I showed up to his hotel door with Javier in tow. My father was a kind man, but he was so old-fashioned with his thinking of others with a different skin colour.

“My father wouldn’t let you inside,” I replied.  
“It’s ’cause I’m Mexican,” Javier said, matter-of-factly.  
“Yes... And I don’t want something bad happening to you if... I mean, I’m not saying that you can’t handle yourself.”  
“I know, I know.” He sighed and pat my shoulder. “We’ll have that drink whenever you get back, okay, _amiga_?”

I felt bad that I was now going to have to ask Sean to come with me again. He didn’t like my father and my father didn’t like him, but I couldn’t bring someone like Javier or Charles with me because things would just not turn out very well. I knew my father; even if he’d never hit our maids, he had certainly berated them. All I could hope for is that he would change his mind before it was too late. I finished up the coffee Javier had given me and went to find Sean.

“Good mornin’,” he said when I found him brushing Ennis.  
“Morning,” I mumbled. “Will you come to Strawberry with me?”  
“Ain’t that where your dad is? I didn’t think I’d have to go see him ever again.”  
“I can’t bring most of you. Maybe I would bring Dutch if, you know, he wasn’t totally wanted in West Elizabeth. Can’t take Hosea for the same reason and Arthur is out collecting debts. Reverend is still drunk from last night. I’m not even sure if he stopped drinking, really.”  
Sean placed the brush in the saddlebag. “So...you want me, the one who wanted to punch ’im the first time ’round and hates the English and hates the rich, to come with ya, all the way to Strawberry?”  
“Just say ‘no’, Sean, and I might try my luck with someone else to come with me.”  
“Jesus, I’ll come with ya.” He grabbed the front of my jacket and pulled me to him. “Been back for not even a day and you’re on me already.”

Sean kissed the side of my head and let me go so I could go and mount Maple. Strawberry was quite far; hopefully we could make it without any interruptions from O’Driscolls or anyone else. They knew not to kill me, but Sean was fair game for them. The one thing I was nervous about was if we were going to run into Bonnie at some point. That was something I really wanted to avoid. I knew there was more to worry about than the O’Driscolls, of course, but if I saw them as opposed to just hearing them, I didn’t know what I would do. We were almost to Strawberry and the whole time Sean and I hadn’t said a word to each other.

“Before anything happens, Sean, do you...remember what happened last night?” I wondered.  
“Oh, boy, don’t I,” he replied with a chuckle.  
“Did we... Well, did we have...”  
“You let me into your sheets, and it ain’t ’cause you wanted someone to keep ya company.”  
“How do you remember it? You were drunk way before I was.”  
“I just do.”  
“Was it...good...?”  
“Of course it was good. What the hell kinda question is that? You enjoyed it, I enjoyed it.”

I left it at that. I didn’t need to know anymore. It confirmed my suspicions, that was for sure. Now it was just a matter of keeping it a secret from my father. If he knew I’d let more than just Dutch into my sheets, he would surely have a heart attack.

“So...didja really miss me?” Sean asked. “Said you were cryin’ and beside yourself while I was gone.”  
“I did and I was,” I said quietly. “Why are you asking me again, then?”  
“Folks speak out of their arse a lot when they been drinkin’.”  
“Sean, I’m just more emotional when I’ve been drinking and I say things that I don’t have the courage to say while sober. For what it’s worth, I cried a lot and I worried a lot after Blackwater.”  
“You ain’t worried now?”  
“I’m..._less_ worried because you’re back. Hey, wait, did you say anything you didn’t mean, then?”  
“No.”  
“I don’t remember what you said.”  
“It’s gonna stay that way, Evie.”

He’d said it in a teasing manner; eventually I would find out what he said. We both stopped talking when we entered Strawberry. It looked like a quaint little town, that was for sure. Definitely a place where Cornelius could relax and take the edge off if need be. If he was going to be anywhere, he was going to be in the welcome centre. It was nice in there, too. The hotel owner was kind enough to tell us where my father was -- he immediately assumed I was his daughter from my fake accent. Sean let out an annoyed sigh as we walked up the stairs.

“Oh, stop it,” I told him. “You could have said ‘no’.”  
“Yeah, and then you would’ve said somethin’ to make me come anyway,” he retorted.  
“Alright, Sean.”

I knocked on the door to my father’s room; it wasn’t even a couple of seconds before he opened the door.

“Tessa, what are you doing here?” he asked, pulling me into a hug.  
“I was... Well, _we_ were in the area and I thought I would come see you,” I replied.  
“Come in.”

Cornelius still didn’t look comfortable allowing Sean into the room, but he knew he had to. Unlike last time, wherein Sean stood in the corner, he was able to sit next to me. He didn’t want to be there; he was only there because I was and he wasn’t about to stand outside the door like an idiot. Most of the bounty hunters Sean had been held by were dead, but some had gotten away and yet they had forgotten to put out the bounty they had on him. They were probably all still recovering from being bushwhacked by Charles, Javier, and Arthur.

“I will not try to convince you to come home with me,” Cornelius admitted, “but I did return to Blackwater a few days ago to see one of my clients and, well...”  
“Bounty posters of Dutch,” I muttered. “I know.”  
“I heard about what happened. Thank you for telling me to leave when you did, but what happened to you?”  
“Me? I wasn’t on that boat; I was back at camp.”

Cornelius looked at Sean. He looked like he was hesitant to ask anything. Sean was being quiet for a reason, but if he was asked something it could only go one of two ways -- he answered properly or he answered with sarcasm.

“What do ya want, English?” Sean asked, hostile.  
“Were you on the boat?” Cornelius wondered.  
“No, I was back at camp doin’ chores with the ladies.” He shook his head. “_Of course_ I was on that job. Shit got bad fast and they had to leave earlier than planned.”  
“They did but you didn’t.”  
“Father,” I said, clearing my throat, “don’t worry about it. I know it’s been a month since I last saw you, but everything is fine, now.”  
“Fucker...” Sean muttered.  
“Where did you end up if you had to leave Blackwater?” Cornelius asked.  
“I can’t tell you and you know I can’t,” I immediately said. “What I can tell you is that I found a...decent...job at the saloon and I’m fine.”

The job was neither decent nor was I fine, but I couldn’t let Cornelius worry anymore than he already did.

“A job at the saloon?” Cornelius said. “Tessa...”  
“You’re workin’ at a saloon?” Sean asked.  
“How did you not know?”  
“I been gone for a couple weeks, ya smug bastard.”  
“Would you both please calm down?” I snapped. “It’s not a big deal.”  
“You’re not..._poor_, are you?” Cornelius asked.  
“What’s wrong with that?” Sean retorted.

Sean was looking for any kind of excuse to be able to at least punch my father in the face. I exhaled sharply and smacked him on the shoulder.

“Yes, Daddy, we are,” I sighed. “It’s okay, though. We’re making it work.”  
“So you _do_ need money?” my father replied.  
“Actually--” Sean began, but I nudged him in his ribs.  
“I’m not here for money,” I admitted. “I wanted to see you, not ask you for money.”  
“But we _do_ need it. Ain’t all our money and your jewellery back in--”  
“Sean!”

By this time, Cornelius was already rummaging through his baggage. I knew what he was doing and I immediately stood and walked over to him.

“Daddy, stop,” I pleaded. “It’s okay.”  
“It’s not okay, darling,” he replied, taking out a bill fold and shoving it into my hands.  
“I didn’t come to ask for this.” I handed it back to him. “We’re somehow making it work.”  
“Tessa,” He stuck the bill fold in my jacket pocket, “when you were born I made a promise to you and to myself that you would never have to face that. Our family has not been poor in over one hundred years.”  
“But--”  
“No buts. Even if you have chosen this life, you are still my daughter and I still love you.”

The hotel owner came and knocked on the door, mentioning that a telegram had arrived for Cornelius. Sean and I decided to leave just then to let him deal with whatever the message was. I felt around in my pocket when we made it to the horses and took out the bill fold. There was easily a couple hundred dollars -- I really hadn’t wanted it. What was I even supposed to do with it? I hadn’t worked for it and if I put some into the community box, Dutch would want to know where it came from since it would be more than I usually put in. He’d see right through a lie if I told him I’d earned more at work than usual. It probably was no secret that I didn’t go to work.

“I don’t believe you,” I snapped at Sean, putting the money in the saddlebag. “Using my father like that.”  
“He was more than willin’ to give it to ya,” he replied. “Nobody died or got hurt to get it.”  
“Sean, that is my _father_.”  
“It ain’t a big deal, Evie.”  
“It is a big deal.”  
“Why? Ya got money without havin’ to be stared at by a buncha old fellers at the saloon and he don’t gotta worry that his kid ain’t broke for a couple a’ days.”

I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. It was easy for him to see it that way, but not for me. Cornelius wasn’t going to accept it back no matter what I did, so there was no use fighting it. There was regret inside of me, though. The jewellery I had sold had been mine and the jewellery left in Blackwater had been mine, but the money he’d handed me wasn’t mine. I didn’t earn it. Sean grabbed my jacket, but instead of pulling me to him, he stepped closer to me.

“C’mon, don’t be poutin’ at me, now,” he said. “It’s unbecomin’, it is.”  
“Why is it unbecoming for someone to be upset?” I asked. “I don’t deserve the money.”  
“Well, you ain’t just somebody, now, are ya? Bein’ angry don’t suit a pretty lady like you.”  
My skin felt hot. “You’re just saying I’m pretty so I’ll stop being angry. Let me tell you...it’s-it’s not going to work.”  
“You can act shy all ya want, Evie, but I know ya like it comin’ from me. You love me and I know it.”  
“Well, I must if I worried so much and let you into my sheets.”  
“But ya can’t say it.”  
“It took you this long to call me pretty sober, Sean; forgive me if I can’t say I love someone. I’ve never... I’ve never...um...”  
“Yeah, I know all about what went on on top of that mountain. Confusin’ stuff. You love more than just me.”  
“I’m not a wh--”  
“I know that, too.”  
“Sean, I’m not expecting you to understand. I’m-I’m not okay. Everything that happened from leaving Arkansas and now, I don’t know how to look at it and figure out what I want to happen. Physically, I may be okay, but...”  
“Those O’Driscoll bastards got into your head, didn’t they? Of course they did.”  
I sniffled. “Sean, I’m sorry...”  
“Y’know, if I do see any of ’em, I’ll kill ’em for ya. Well, I’d kill ’em anyway, but ya know what I mean. We’ve all been through some shit, so if it takes ya some time to come ’round, then it’s okay. Just...one of ’em ain’t Micah?”  
I let out a strained laugh and slapped his shoulder. “Never.”  
♞♞♞

“If he’s that understandin’, he probably loves you,” Abigail murmured. “He’s right, though; we’ve all seen things we shouldn’t have and...well, my life is one big ‘shouldn’t have’. Some of us ain’t as used to it as others.”  
“Being sweet on someone and loving someone are two different things,” I replied. “First all of you were telling me he’s sweet on me and now he loves me? Make up your mind, Abigail.”  
“You’ll have to make up your own mind first, dear. And, y’know, not to be mean or anythin’, but you gotta stop cryin’ over everything.”  
“Do you want me to bottle up my emotions? That’s...not going to turn out well for anyone here. I need to go see if Kieran needs food.”  
“Oh, that O’Driscoll boy? Yeah, he ain’t here. John, Bill, and Arthur took him somewhere.”

I quickly got up from where I was sitting and rushed over to Dutch’s tent. Before I could even say anything, he held his hand up to keep me from speaking. I didn’t come to argue; I just wanted an answer.

“That Kieran boy is fine,” he told me. “He’s showin’ them where Colm is held up.”  
“You got him to talk?” I asked. “Dutch, what did you do?”  
“We threatened to geld him and he sang like a canary.”  
“You _what_?”  
“Calm down; I wasn’t gonna let it happen. Even if Bill really wanted to do it.”  
“Of course he really wanted to do it.”  
Dutch sighed. “Is that everything?”

I dug the front of one of my boots into the dirt and the grass. I’d not told him about Cornelius giving me money; I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it and there was no way to know that Dutch wouldn’t take it all and put it into the safe spot away from camp or put all of it in the community box. But I did have to tell him, didn’t I? Otherwise if I used all the money for new dresses, he would be suspicious and the last thing anyone wanted was to have a suspicious Dutch on their tail.

“No,” I mumbled.  
“What?” he asked. “There _another_ problem?”  
“Well, no, not exactly. I don’t know? I went and saw Daddy and he gave me some money I’m not too sure what to do with.”  
Dutch shut his book and stood up. “You could’ve just kept your mouth shut and kept it for yourself.”  
“That would be an argument waiting to happen.”  
“Just do what you normally do and put some of it in the box. Don’t matter if you worked for it or not. He know we’re around here?”  
“All he knows is we’re not in Blackwater anymore.”  
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

That was the end of _that_ conversation, it seemed. I dug around in my jacket pocket and pulled out the bill fold and wandered over to the community box. I put in enough that would more than satisfy whomever looked in the ledger. Just as I was closing the lid, Javier came over.

“Feelin’ generous, Evie?” he said.  
“My father was,” I replied, turning to him. “He doesn’t want me to be poor.”  
“Don’t talk about your father.”

Javier had one of his arms wrapped around my waist with his hand resting on my hip. It wasn’t even that late in the day; middle of the afternoon, perhaps, and he had already been drinking. Why was I not surprised? It wasn’t unusual for some of the men to drink during the day; I’d just never seen Javier partake in it. Well, he’d been in the saloon during the day before that big bar fight Bill started. No way anyone could be sober and do that much damage.

“Are you okay?” I wondered.  
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Javier admitted. “It’s just that you’re _so...damn...pretty_.”  
“Jav--”  
“Sometimes I stop and think about just how pretty you are. You know?”  
“I don’t know.”

I looked toward the front of the camp; John was returning and Kieran was riding on his horse behind him. He was allowed to come back? That must have meant things went... Well, they could have gone bad, but there was no look of worry among either of them. Bill rode in after them and immediately went to go get a whiskey.

“Excuse me, Javier,” I said, pulling away.  
“Of course, _linda_,” Javier sighed, sounding a bit annoyed.

I scurried off toward where Kieran was getting an earful from John. If it wasn’t John doing it, it was going to be Dutch, and if it wasn’t going to be Dutch it was going to be Arthur. Speaking of Dutch, he was listening to John give Kieran said earful. John was just finishing up when I got there. In my excitement, I nearly went in for a hug but I had to stop. Kieran had just opened his arms for me, too, when I stopped. I wrinkled my nose.

“Oh, erm...” I coughed. “John, you couldn’t take him through Valentine for a bath first?”  
“At least you didn’t have to ride with ’im,” John retorted.  
“Guess I’ll do it. Grab a horse, would you, Kieran?”  
“I was tied to a tree for weeks,” Kieran complained, taking the reins of a horse. “What did ya think was gonna happen?”  
“Surprised no one could smell ’im from across the camp...” John muttered as he walked away.

I mounted Maple and waited for Kieran. It was better that I dealt with him than Susan walking by him and forcing him to dunk his head into the water barrel. At least in Valentine he’d be able to relax for a few moments by himself.

“You don’t gotta do this, y’know,” he said as we left camp.  
“Do what?” I wondered.  
“_This_. I could go on my own.”  
“Kieran, please, it might be a while before anyone trusts you to leave camp on your own.”  
“I... Oh.”  
“Not to say I don’t trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have gave you food or worried over how you were tied to a tree, and I really wouldn’t be taking you to Valentine. I just don’t want anyone to get on your back more than they already will be.”  
“Evie, I been wonderin’... Why do you and Dutch yell at each other so much?”  
“It’s because he can be a jerk and I’ve a lot of issues with how he handles things.”  
“But...you don’t yell at anyone else...”  
“Oh, you’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Please don’t.”  
“I’ll-I’ll stop askin’ questions.”  
“Has anyone mentioned to you what my cover is?”  
“Somethin’ about bein’ from England...?”  
“Okay, good enough.”

We were both silent on the rest of the way to Valentine. Kieran was nervous about _something_ and I just wanted quiet. No one had been overly happy after he, John, and Bill had returned, which just led me to believe that Colm hadn’t been where Kieran had said. From what I understood, Colm was slippery, and had probably been wherever it was they went to at some point in time. Still, no doubt there were plenty of O’Driscolls around. I’d noticed Kieran had returned with a holster that he hadn’t left with, and no one in camp would have given him one. He must have picked it off someone dead -- hopefully that someone was a dead O’Driscoll. Perhaps the reason Kieran looked so nervous was because not all of them were dead. Colm had so many men that could still be around. After hitching our horses up in Valentine, I turned to Kieran and held out some money to him.

“You take this,” I told him. “Go to the hotel and take a bath. I’ll be in the saloon over there.”  
“Thanks, Evie,” he said, and off he went.

I walked into the saloon, where the bartender seemed to sigh with relief.

“I am not here to work today,” I admitted.  
“Well, no, I expected not,” he replied. “With all the bad people around these parts, I thought you’d been snatched up when you didn’t come in.”  
“No. I was going to return to England and I was packing my baggage when I received a note from my father telling me to enjoy the rest of America. So I suppose I will stay here for a big longer. What happened after I left yesterday? I saw a fellow get tossed out.”  
“Tommy threw him out the window over there.”  
“Oh, my.”  
“Tommy lost.”

I paused and stared at the bartender. Arthur had beat up that giant of a man? That was...something else. Other than that and Bill starting the fight, I didn’t know anything else. Maybe I didn’t need to know and I surely was beginning to wish I didn’t know anything at all.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“I will have to quit if anymore fights start because of any of the other men,” I said, standing with Dutch at his tent.  
“Why is that?” he replied. “Your _boss_ getting suspicious about you?”  
“Not that I know of, but the truth is bound to come out sooner or later.”  
“What just happened ain’t a fight. What happened when Bill was there was a fight.”  
“We just repaired the window Arthur was thrown through and it wasn’t but ten minutes later Javier tossed someone through it, too!”

Dutch sighed, and I could tell he was stifling a chuckle. Javier hadn’t even had a drink yet when it happened, either; he just _did it_. Granted, it was over someone coming onto me, hard, when I was trying to continue on and work. All he tried to do was defuse the fact the man was getting angry with me, got punched, and decided it was enough justification to throw him out the window. The man hadn’t even hit Javier that hard; he didn’t even flinch or step back. As if I didn’t need anything worse to happen to me, Charles was walking quickly from the hitching posts.

“Anyway, it ain’t gonna do you any good if you just quit,” Dutch told me. “Unless you wanna run back to your daddy and get all your money to contribute from him.”  
“This is one of the reasons why I didn’t want him to give me money,” I snapped. “Because you’d say something like _that_.”  
“Evie, I need to tell you something,” Charles said, stopping in front of us.  
“How fast you were walking, I would say so,” Dutch mentioned.  
“What’s the problem, Charles?” I mumbled.

There was no good way to say it; it was just one way and that way was bad, no matter how it was looked at.

“The O’Driscolls have your father,” Charles admitted.  
“What?!” I shouted.  
“I was out hunting and-- Evie!”

I took off toward Maple, only Charles managed to stop me before I could even mount her.

“If you go there yourself, they’ll kill you,” he said.  
“And if I don’t go at all, they will kill my father, Charles,” I retorted, shrugging him off and climbing on top of my horse.  
“You get him and what are you gonna do?” Dutch wondered, having wandered over. “You can’t take him back to Strawberry.”

Charles was mounting Taima -- he wasn’t going to let me go alone. Besides, he probably figured I would need his tracking. I probably wasn’t in the right mindset to track by myself.

“You keep saying you love me, Dutch,” I sighed. “If you want me to believe you so badly, the least you could do is let me bring Daddy back.”  
“Excuse me?” Dutch spoke as if he couldn’t believe his ears.  
“You heard me. You may not like my father -- in fact, nobody may like my father -- but nobody other than yourself likes Micah and you sent Arthur to go get that son of a bitch out of jail. I don’t have time to argue with you over this. That’s my father they have; they took my baby from me and they aren’t going to take him away from me, too.”  
“You best believe your father and me are gonna have a chat when you bring him back, then.”

I shook my head at him with an annoyed sigh and took off out of the camp. Charles followed closely behind me at first and then rode next to me. He directed where he originally saw them. It wasn’t at all that far away from camp. Sure enough, there were hoof marks in the dirt. According to Charles, he knew it had been Cornelius from what he was shouting. He’d been shouting about Bonnie and myself; then there was also the English accent. Charles remembered my father’s condescending voice even after months of not seeing him.

“I thought they weren’t supposed to touch him,” Charles said as he looked at the ground.  
“Something must have happened between Bonnie and Colm,” I replied.  
“You okay?”  
“Charles--”  
“I mean goin’ back into a place full of O’Driscolls. What you’re doing is going back into the lions’ den.”  
“I’d go into an actual lions’ den to save my father, Charles.”

I was nervous about the O’Driscolls. There was no way around it. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Maybe nervous wasn’t the correct word for it; I was horrified. These were the people who made it difficult to be under anybody sober and the reason why it was nearly impossible to get a good night’s rest. If Sean and I hadn’t been drunk during that party of his, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get through it. Dutch had calmed me when I came back from the cabin just so he could finish -- well, that was what it felt like. Sometimes even being touched a certain way scared me.

“You can’t go running in there,” Charles mentioned. “Either they’ll kill you first or leave your father’s body behind for you to discover.”  
“As bad as his old-fashioned views on the world are, he’s a good man,” I complained.  
“The O’Driscolls kill anything and anyone. Don’t matter if they’re a good person or not. Look at Sadie or...think about the way you used to be before them. You’re good people because they’re bad people who wanted to hurt you.”  
“That’s insightful, Charles.”  
“But...I need to ask...is your father _really_ a good man or is he a good _father_?”  
“I’ve never seen or heard him hurt anybody.”  
“Right. You’ve never _seen_. If you wanna believe he’s still a good man, then I ain’t gonna stop you, Evie. The tracks go into the trees here. Let me go ahead on my own, just in case.”  
“Charles--”  
“I’ll come right back, I promise.”

I looked around nervously as Charles disappeared into the trees. He hadn’t come with me so he could save my father; he came with me so _I_ could save my father. He was there for me so I wouldn’t be alone. I didn’t think anyone else in that camp besides myself cared if Cornelius died or not; he’d come into our Blackwater camp and tried to get away with it by trying to buy someone to force me back with him. But I stood by what I said to Dutch -- no one liked Micah except for himself and he wanted Arthur to bust him out of jail. No one but myself liked Cornelius and he was my father, so I had every right to get him out safely. I sighed with relief as Charles reappeared from the trees.

“There’s an area we can hide our horses,” he said. “Looks like there’s maybe twenty, twenty-five O’Driscolls around. Not too many, considering.”

I followed Charles back into the trees; we found the area to leave Maple and Taima. I pulled a branch of one of the trees down to get a better look at what was going on. There were a few cabins around. Cornelius was in one of them, but which one? Charles pulled me back when two of the O’Driscolls were walking by.

“So what are we keepin’ that guy around for?” one of them asked. “Why ain’t he dead yet?”  
“Colm wants to lure Bonnie out of hiding,” the other replied. “She might snitch. Said we could do what we wanted to him, though. Long as we don’t kill him.”

So something had happened between those two. Maybe it was just a big argument or a big misunderstanding, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was they had Cornelius and Charles and I were going to get him out. The two of us stayed quiet while the two O’Driscolls continued on passed us. Once they were gone, Charles handed me a dynamite.

“Throw that and it should get rid of them enough,” he said.  
I sighed. “You wouldn’t throw a dynamite if it was just you.”  
“Do you want me to go in there myself and distract them so you can focus on finding your father?”  
“No. I want them to know I’m here.”

Charles shook his head at me.

“What?” I asked.  
“Are you sure?” he inquired. “You might think it’s a good idea now, but--”  
“Charles, you have to trust me. Please?”  
“I trust you, Evie, but I’m just a little concerned.”  
I exhaled sharply. “And when you’re concerned, it’s for a good reason. Alright, fine. Do you have a match?”

He handed me a match and, after striking it on the bottom of my boot, I set the fuse and threw the dynamite as hard as I could. It landed near a small group of O’Driscolls, just smoking and minding their own business.

“Dynamite!” one of them shouted.

I cowered slightly when it exploded and then took off toward their camp. There weren’t many, just like Charles said, but there was _enough_. Some of the men I recognized from being tied up at the cabin, some others I didn’t. Colm went through men like the camp went through whiskey and cigarettes. Though I was being shot at mercilessly as I ran through camp, I didn’t stop for cover. Risky, yes, but I was angry and I wasn’t going to cower at the people who changed me. Had it been for the better than I’d changed? Of course not; not with how the changing came. All I knew was that they may have taken a good mind away from me and my baby, but they weren’t going to take my father and they definitely weren’t going to leave the land of the living peacefully.

Running through the camp, I was horrified; of course I was. I was surrounded by so many people who hurt me and, I supposed by proxy, Sadie. Shooting them made me only feel a smidgen bit better. The one who had hurt me the most wasn’t around and I hoped someday that he’d be dealt with. But for now, the animals in the bodies of men would suffice.

“Evie, find cover!” Charles shouted at me.

I ducked behind a boulder. He was giving me a moment to myself so he could handle some on his own. I didn’t take a very long moment; I only checked myself over to see if I had been hit and just didn’t realize. Once the assurance was there that I was fine, I peeked over the top of the boulder. There weren’t many left at this point, and some others were running away like the true cowards they were. I screamed in frustration and anger and shot at the others that were left. All that was left was the man who was cowering away in one of the cabins; the one I’d seen choose to try and save himself when I’d thrown the dynamite.

“Come on, we need to find your father,” Charles said when he ran up to me.  
“One more thing,” I panted. “Do you have anymore dynamite?”

Charles gave me another dynamite and another match. I told him to wait outside the cabin. Upon approaching it, I found that it was locked. There was no way he was going to hide from me. I kicked the door open, holding my gun out in front of me just in case he tried to be cute. Instead, the man was standing on the other side of the cabin, shotgun aimed in my direction. I’d thought O’Driscolls were meant to be fearless -- they certainly strutted around the place and spoke like they were. I shot his hands, causing him to drop the shotgun in pain. When he attempted to run for the door to the side of the cabin, I screamed again, ran at him, and knocked him to the floor.

“Hey, buddy,” I hissed, digging my nails into his neck. “Did you miss me?”  
“Sure,” he croaked. “You were everyone’s favourite.”

He tried to reach for the gun on his holster, but I shot him right in the back of his hand. Just for the sake of doing it, I shot the back of his other hand, too. Now he was far too much in pain to even consider grabbing for his gun.

“You were the worst,” I snapped at him. “I wasn’t fine with anything any of you did, but the things you did to my body I wish I could do to you. Now...if you don’t want anything else done above some useless hands, you better tell me where my daddy is.”

He stayed quiet; he was trying to hold out, wasn’t he? Waiting for any of the O’Driscolls to come back and hopefully actually get rid of me? Bonnie was no longer with them so there was no obligation to her not to hurt me anymore. I screamed louder this time and went back to digging my nails into his throat. I was crying out of frustration by that point. The scars on my body that weren’t from Colm gutting me had been made by him. He’d put out his cigarettes and cigars on my skin, and put out candles wherever he figured would hurt most. The thinner scars were from his knife, and partly why it hurt so much to have sex was because there was a wound he had made on me that never quite healed correctly.

“You won’t get nothin’ outta me,” he spat at me.

I shot him in his groin with no hesitation. He howled in pain, but I didn’t let him go. It wasn’t like he was going to need it anymore.

“You better tell me right now!” I shouted.  
“He’s-He’s in the third cabin,” he sobbed. “He’s only beat up a bit. Ain’t dead. Please...let me go.”  
“‘Please, let me go’.” My voice came out in a mocking tone as I grabbed the rope that was attached to his belt. “I asked that over and over and what did that get me?”  
“I d- I don’t wanna die.”

I scoffed and got up, before turning him over onto his stomach. Using the rope, I hogtied him so tightly that he began complaining that the rope was digging into his skin. I kicked him so he was again on his back.

“Y-You ain’t a bad person, lady,” he sniffled. “You’re gonna regret this later.”  
I kicked him in his side. “You don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not! You animals made me a bad person. You, Colm, Bonnie, and all you goddamn O’Driscolls.”  
“Yeah? And-And how’s Kieran? I know he ain’t just wanderin’ the wild--”  
“He’s not like you! He’s not like any of you! He wanted to untie me and to help me and he was the only one out of any of you! And you know what?” I knelt down and took his gun from his holster. “I told him ‘no’ because I didn’t want you animals to kill him.”  
“Please, I don’t wanna die.”  
I began dragging him toward the dynamite box in the corner. “Yeah, well, I do.”

I grabbed the dynamite out of my bag, shaking, and opened up the box. What I was about to do would probably be overkill, but that didn’t matter. He deserved to be scared and to die in a horrible way. I shot him in his leg just so I could get him to scream. Once he was screaming, I shoved the dynamite as deep as I could into his throat. It must have dawned on him what I was doing, because he began trying to shake his head.

“It’s your turn to have something that you don’t want shoved down your throat,” I hissed, lighting the match on the back of my boot. “Unfortunately for you, it won’t be backing out.”

I lit the fuses -- the one in his mouth and a few in the box -- and ran out of the cabin, grabbing Charles’ hand and pulling him down behind the boulder. The dynamite exploded, causing the cabin and the man to explode with it. Charles and I stood and looked at where the cabin was now nothing but timber slightly on fire. The man was scattered -- well, what was left of him. I exhaled sharply and wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

“You okay?” Charles asked.  
“Bastard,” I muttered with a sniffle. “He deserved that and much more.”  
“C’mon. Let’s go get your father.”

I found the cabin Cornelius was in; he was tied to a chair. Indeed, he was quite beaten up. Nothing too serious, thankfully, but the punches he received were already bruising and his suit didn’t look as nice as it should have.

“Daddy!” I gasped, running to him.  
“Tessa?” he panted as I untied him. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t be here.”  
“It’s safe for now. Charles and I got rid of as many as we could.”  
“All those gunshots were you? And whose blood is on you?”  
“It doesn’t matter. Come on, I’m taking you back to our camp.”  
“Tessa--”  
“Now is not the time to argue, Father!”

I helped Cornelius out of the cabin; it went without saying that being hogtied, carried on the back of a horse, and then being beat up left him feeling quite sore. Charles and I whistled for our horses. While we were waiting for them, Cornelius looked at Charles.

“Before you say anything, I really couldn’t have done this without Charles,” I said. “I was_ going to_, but...I didn’t.”  
“Thank you, sir.”  
“I’m only here because of Evie,” Charles admitted. “Try anything to put her in danger and you’ll have to deal with me.”  
“If I may ask, are you a Negro or a redskin?”

Charles looked at him, really not impressed, and then looked at me. I really couldn’t believe my own ears that my father had asked such a question.

“Daddy, you can’t just ask people that!” I complained. “What does it matter? He’s American. Can we get you back to camp without you asking anymore ignorant questions? Save them for Dutch because he wants to talk to you.”  
“Oh, lovely,” Cornelius croaked.  
“You sure we can’t just take him back to Strawberry?” Charles inquired.  
“_Charles_,” I scolded.  
“Alright, fine.”

Maple and Taima galloped over to where we were. Cornelius pat Maple’s side as I climbed on top of her and waited for him. Once he was up behind me, I waited for Charles to mount Taima and we took off back to camp.  
♞♞♞

“_Hola_,” Javier said as he sat across from me.  
“Hey,” I mumbled.  
“Why the long face?”  
“My father and Dutch have been talking for a really long time; that’s all.”

Javier had been holding two bottles of whiskey. With a sigh, he produced two glasses from his satchel and placed them on the table. He switched spots so he was sitting closer to me and proceeded to pour the whiskey into each glass.

“You and me still gotta have that drink I keep promisin’ you,” he mentioned. “So now seems like a good time to do it.”  
“I don’t see why not,” I replied.

I had no idea what Cornelius and Dutch could have been talking about for so long. I didn’t know if my father was asking questions about everything that happened to me or if Dutch had to keep laying out the rules over and over. Maybe Dutch was intimidating my father into staying just so he wouldn’t go and accidentally let it slip about where our camp was. Arthur had already had a run in with some Pinkertons while taking Jack out fishing. Whatever was going on in that tent, I was sure there was a lot of back and forth going on.

“You okay, _amiga_?” Javier asked.  
“Not really,” I admitted, taking a sip of whiskey.  
“Your father’s okay, so that’s somethin’. But...” He took a long drink of his whiskey, “dunno how it’s gonna turn out for you and Sean with him around.”  
“Me and Sean?”  
“He ain’t gonna let anything happen.”

Javier had a point. Cornelius already had his problems with Sean and vice versa, but he didn’t know Sean and I were... Well, we weren’t necessarily together. We slept in the same cot sometimes and kissed and hugged, but Sean knew that I wasn’t in the right place to completely understand my feelings. Maybe we were together, but we weren’t...“_together_”, meaning we weren’t like Abigail and John or how Dutch and I used to be. Should Cornelius find out Sean and I had had sex he may just have had a crisis. Heaven forbid word got to him that not only were we sweet on each other, but apparently Charles and Javier were sweet on me, too, and I on them. It was definitely going to get around to him sooner or later and I was dreading that day. Then there was the case with Kieran. It would take a lot of talking to Cornelius about what the deal was with Kieran.

“I’m a grown woman,” I said quietly. “So...I should get to choose who I do and don’t have a relationship with, right?”  
“Right,” Javier agreed, pouring me another glass of whiskey. “Of course. You’re a grown woman. Pretty. Sweet.”

From the point of beginning to drink our second glasses of whiskey to the empty bottle, Cornelius and Dutch still hadn’t been done talking. Javier and I were still at the table; I didn’t even quite know what we were talking about, but we kept laughing at things that weren’t even particularly funny. It felt like I needed to just go lay down for a while and the only thing keeping me from doing so was Javier’s company. We’d not spent much time with each other since ending up at Horseshoe. It was nice.

“Hey, hey, you came back to the camp with blood on your clothes,” Javier mentioned, almost choking back laughter. “Where did that come from?”  
“Let’s just say I unmanned an O’Driscoll,” I snorted.

It took him a moment to process what I said and then he began laughing again, which in turn made me begin laughing once more, too. I was just about to finish the last bit of whiskey in my glass when Dutch and Cornelius emerged from the tent. Cornelius did not look happy.

“Uh-oh,” I snickered as he wandered over.  
“You _choose_ to live like this?” he asked. “Darling, I can’t imagine why.”

Javier and I looked at each other and we both began laughing uncontrollably.

“Are you drunk?” Cornelius snapped.  
“Yes,” I struggled to say.  
“Whatever for?”  
“I’m just spending some time with Javier.” I stood up. “Anyway,” I clumsily put my hand on one of his shoulders, “what’s going on? You were in there for so long.”  
“Well...I’m permitted to stay as long as I wish as long as I contribute and do not cause problems for everyone.”  
“I guess that includes not asking people what they are.”

I turned to look at Javier, who had his head down on the table. For a second I thought he was sleeping, but he sat back up straight to finish his whiskey.

“Daddy, that’s Javier,” I mentioned. “Javier, you know my father.”  
“You had some balls walkin’ into our camp in Blackwater,” he muttered.  
“Well, I--” Cornelius began.  
“Just do what Dutch said and not cause problems for anyone," I said. "What time is it?”  
“Eight-thirty,” Javier said.

I waved Cornelius off and sat back down with Javier. It was at this point that he thought it was a good idea to get up and get a third bottle of whiskey. I could tell my father was doing his best to keep an eye on me despite being on the other side of camp. One of the upsides for him to be allowed to stay in camp was just to make sure that I was doing okay. As long as he didn’t try to dictate what I did, then we could stay on good terms. It wasn’t even myself that I was worried about in terms of whose skin he would get under.

“Evie, Evie, listen,” Javier said once the third bottle was finished.  
“Yes, what?” I mumbled.  
He moved the chair he was sitting on closer to me. “You’re so pretty.”  
“I’m aware.”  
Javier held my hands. “No, I..._love_ you, okay, _amiga_?”  
“You do, do you?”  
“Well...yeah, of course I do.”  
“You realize I’m not gonna remember any of this in the morning, right?”  
“No?”  
“No.”

Javier kissed my cheek before returning the chair to its rightful place. He mentioned he was tired, kissed the top of my head, and proceeded to stumble his way over to his bedroll. It seemed that once he was out of the way, Micah wandered over.

“Hey, princess, had a little bit too much to drink?” he asked.  
“Arthur really brought you back?” I muttered. “What’s wrong with him?”  
“What, you didn’t miss me?”  
“No, you gross son of a bitch, I didn’t -- I’d rather them hang you, but I guess even the vultures and crows wouldn’t wanna eat you.”  
“Okay, let’s go for a little walk.”

Micah pulled me up out of my chair and held me tightly as he walked me toward my tent. Even when I tried to pull out of his grip, he didn’t let up. We were almost to my tent went Charles stepped in front of us.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said.  
“I was just takin’ the princess back to her tent,” Micah replied, trying to sound innocent. “I was--”  
“Yeah, I know what you were thinkin’ of doing. Leave her alone; she ain’t gonna sleep with you sober or drunk. C’mon, Evie.”

Micah unwillingly let me go and I stumbled toward Charles, who helped me into my tent.

“Mm... What just happened...?” I mumbled.  
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed, sitting me down on my cot. “Just get some rest, okay?”  
“Charles, I didn’t say ‘thank you’, did I?”  
“For what?”  
“Helping me go get Daddy. Thank you.”  
“You know I didn’t go for him.”  
“Still, Charles -- thank you.”  
“What did you do with that second stick of dynamite?”

He sat on the cot next to me when I didn’t answer him. I had to think about what I actually had done. The memory of it was still there, but how was I supposed to describe it? There was only one way to do it, wasn’t there?

“I shoved it down the guy’s throat and lit the fuse,” I admitted.

For a few seconds, I laughed at the mere idea of doing it, but then I started crying. Those kinds of ideas would never have come naturally before the cabin. The fact I had thought of it and executed it wasn’t what scared me. Really, I wasn’t scared, but I was angry that I hadn’t done more to hurt that man. He’d hurt me so much more. Well, at least he died scared and I got Cornelius back.

“I never wanna do that kind of thing again.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“Hey, Evie,” Sean said as he walked up to me.  
“Good afternoon,” I replied with a sigh.  
“So you were a pageant queen? You gotta have a talent for that, don’t ya?”

I stopped pounding the shirt against the washboard and looked up at him. I’d seen Cornelius and Sean speaking earlier on in the day -- well, heard was more like it. My father was trying to understand what I saw in everyone to want to stay around and Sean was mocking him that maybe it was the fact no one was a stuck up Englishman. There was a lot of back and forth about me being a pageant queen and how I apparently still didn’t belong.

“Yes,” I mumbled. “Pageant queens need a talent. The most common talent is singing and dancing.”  
“Do ya sing, then?”  
“Um, I _can_ sing, just not in front of other people.” I stood up to look at him properly. “My talent is... Well... It’s silly.”  
“Don’t ya be tellin’ me that ya can put your legs behind your head.”  
“Ah, it’s not body contortion, Sean; I can juggle.”  
“You mean like a circus clown?”  
“Sure, why not.”

It wasn’t to say that I was the only one in my pageants to know how to juggle. It just wasn’t as common as singing, dancing, or, like Sean suggested, body contortion. I’d only ever lost one pageant of the dozens I had been in and it was to a contortionist from out of state. Sure, I was jealous, but I had so many wins already and she had deserved her win. My juggling wasn’t normal, though; anyone, if they tried hard enough, could juggle some toy balls. Most of my winnings were won because I juggled with knives, full alcohol bottles, horseshoes -- things that weren’t regularly juggled with, I could juggle with. Was it dangerous? Well, it could be, but I didn’t juggle with lit dynamite or guns or anything of the sort. The most dangerous thing I did was the knives. I was only so lucky I didn’t ever cut myself.

“Judges don’t like something they’ve seen hundreds, if not thousands, of times,” I explained. “Of course most of the girls who can afford to be in pageants know how to sing or dance. Most don’t know how to contort their body or know how to juggle.”  
“Who thought of that for your talent?” Sean asked.  
“I did. Daddy wanted me to sing or dance, but, like I said, I don’t sing in front of people and my dancing is mediocre at best. The first few times he didn’t want me to juggle because ladies do not juggle.”  
“Fancy lady like you don’t know how to dance?”  
“I know how; I just don’t do it _well_.”  
“Your father don’t know about us, does he?”  
“I don’t know. But I should really get back to work--”  
“Evie!” Dutch called. “Come here!”

Sean walked in the opposite direction that I did. What did Dutch want now? When I walked up to him, he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“What do you think you’re _doing_, Dutch van der Linde?” I snapped.  
“Talkin’,” he replied. “If you’d just let me.”  
“You can talk to me without holding me.”  
He ignored my statement. “I’m gonna head into town in the mornin’ to talk to Herr Strauss. Care to join me to make it overnight?”  
“I barely care for this position we’re in right now, Dutch, and if you want to talk, we can talk whenever you get back.”  
“Well, fine, then.”  
I waited a moment before speaking again. “You’re doing this because of Daddy, aren’t you?”  
“Nothin’ would bring me more joy than gettin’ a rise out of him. He’s been here, what, a couple days and he’s already botherin’ most of us. At least he’s contributing.”

I rolled my eyes and finally stepped away from him. Just as I was walking away, though, Micah wandered by and smacked me from behind.

“Can I go one day without being touched by the likes of you?” I shouted. “Jesus, Micah!”  
“Careful there, princess, wouldn’t want your dear old daddy to faint from such frightful language,” he mocked.  
“Do me a favour and stick your pecker in a sheep!”

Cornelius looked confused as he wandered up to me; I was already back to doing the laundry. What was he going to do? Lecture me not to use words like that? I’d said many worse words to him when he had the audacity to walk into the Blackwater camp; surely he’d be able to forgive the word “Jesus”. I sighed as he sat on one of the bedrolls.

“I missed you a church today,” he admitted.  
“Well, thirsty men don’t stop being thirsty just because it’s Sunday,” I replied. “Besides, I haven’t been to church since I left Arkansas. Don’t tell me I can still be forgiven.”  
“Would you consider going with me next week?”  
“No.”  
“Darling, it would be a change of--”  
“After what happened with Colm and Bonnie, I don’t believe in God anymore, okay? So there’s no use in wasting my time going somewhere like church. If I ever feel like confessing, I’ll wait until Reverend Swanson is having a sober day.”  
“Do you truly enjoy being here?”

It was better than being scrutinized by the whole town, and I was getting what I wanted -- adventure. Sometimes it may have been adventure I didn’t want, but the feeling of being able to not have to pretend to be someone most of the time felt so wonderful. It was changing me as a person, yes, but I didn’t want to think what I would still be like if I had decided to stay in Arkansas.

“Is that why you’re staying here?” I asked. “To see if I change my mind and we can leave together?”  
“Well...yes, I suppose so,” he admitted.  
“I’m not changing my mind.”  
“Is it because of that Sean fellow?”  
“It isn’t just because of him. I have some good friends here and I still care about Dutch, despite everything that’s happened.”  
“Declan--”  
“_Declan_ would become so hot at the sight of me doing house chores. _Declan_ would hate that I can shoot a buck and feed everyone for a few days. _Declan_ is part of the reason why I’m here.”  
“And no one here thinks it’s unladylike to run around with a gun, getting dirty...”

I exhaled sharply and stood up to hang the shirt I’d been washing. Just when I was about to answer Cornelius, Kieran wandered by and I reached my hand out to stop him.

“Oh, Kieran, can I ask you something?” I said.  
“Sure, Evie,” he replied. “Somethin’ the matter?”  
“You care about when I come back covered in blood?”  
“As long as it ain’t yours, I don’t mind.”  
“Isn’t he an O’Driscoll?” Cornelius asked as Kieran walked away.  
“No,” I immediately snapped. “You know what, Daddy, when Dutch told you not to be a pain to anybody, that includes me. You’re being a pain.”  
“I’m sorry, Tess--”  
“For the last time, I go by Evangeline here or Evie.”  
“_Ay_!” Javier called over. “You wanna have a drink?”  
“Give me a minute!”

I finished hanging up some clothes and went to dump the water from the basin out. Upon returning to where I had left Cornelius, he was standing already with an upset expression on his face. He didn’t like how I was turning out -- well, I couldn’t be a lady forever after everything had happened.

“You know, that Micah fellow told me you seem to--” he began.  
“Don’t listen to a thing Micah says,” I interrupted. “He’s a cretin and I don’t trust him. Dutch is the only one here who likes him and the last thing I want is for him to get into your head, too.”  
“Then who _should_ I listen to, Te-- Evangeline?”  
“I don’t know. Arthur? Charles? Anyone but Micah. Actually, that includes Uncle. He has some...really strange ideas.”  
“You are about to have a drink in the middle of the afternoon with a...” Cornelius sighed and then continued speaking, “_Mexican_ and Uncle is the one with strange ideas?”  
“Really? It was that hard not to call him anything but a Mexican? His name is Javier; learn it.”  
“Evang--”

I waved my father off and wandered over to where Javier was waiting. He hadn’t spoken to me in a few days and he hadn’t really looked at me, either. Had something happened the last time we had drank together? I couldn’t remember a thing after he asked me to drink at that time. All I knew was one moment, I was about to have a drink with him and the next moment I was waking up with Sean next to me. I didn’t know how I got from spending time with Javier to waking up with Sean, but it happened. I hadn’t any time to ask what happened, either, because I had to go into the saloon.

“You’re talking to me again,” I stated, matter-of-fact, as I sat across from Javier. “Is...everything okay?”  
“Oh, yeah,” he replied with a couple nods. “Yeah.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I just needed to let off some steam.”  
“You wanna tell me what happened when we drank together?”  
“You just don’t remember somethin’ I told you, Evie; don’t worry about it.”  
“Jav--”  
“It ain’t your fault. You told me you wouldn’t remember. I was just disappointed.”

I didn’t care that it was the middle of the afternoon and clearly Javier didn’t care, either. Drinking was a whole lot easier knowing that I’d upset him, though. I was hoping he would tell me what happened, what I didn’t remember, but he didn’t. We ended up laughing at how uptight my father was.

“I used to be the same way,” I admitted.  
“You?” Javier asked. “No way.”  
“I’m still kinda uptight, aren’t I? Just...I’m not as bad now as I was back then.”  
“You were a real lady.”  
“I’m still a lady.”  
“You’re right; sorry, sorry. Hey, who’s Declan?”  
“_Technically..._he’s my fiancé. Daddy promised me to him before I came here. Hated the fact that a woman can hunt and ride a horse. Even said that he’d call me Tessa whether I liked it or not.”  
“You still think your father loves you after that?”  
I leaned back slightly with a sigh. “Mm... Yes, but he was panicking. Any man of high society wouldn’t like to see his daughter pine after an outlaw.”

Javier rolled his eyes and clumsily reached over to hold my hand. Not only did my father hate the fact I pined after Dutch, if he understood I was sleeping with Sean and had feelings for Javier and Charles, he would most certainly have a fit. Cornelius might have been fine with Kieran since he spent most of his time in camp taking care of the horses. My choices of men were better than Declan, that was for certain. Well, in my mind at least. Sooner or later, my father was going to have to realize just how much of a family the gang was.

“Apparently Declan is waiting for me,” I scoffed, leaning on the table.  
“He’s gonna be waiting forever, ain’t he?” Javier said.  
“I think he only likes me because I’m pretty. Wait. You like me, don’t you?”  
“_Si_.”  
“Javier,” My voice came out in a whine, “I don’t speak Spanish.”  
“I said yes,_ amiga_.”  
“Why do you like me?”  
“You shouldn’t be asking why someone likes you.”  
“Is that your way of saying that you only like me because I’m pretty?”

Javier got up to go get another bottle of whiskey -- we were on bottle three with that one -- possibly to take the edge off even more. What was it with these men being unable to tell me how they felt when they were sober? Well, Sean had said it sober one time, but no one else had admitted it sober, and then there was Charles who never seemed to drink at all, at least not in camp.

“I like how nice you are, I guess,” he said after downing his glass. “You bein’ pretty is a perk.”  
“But if I wasn’t pretty, you probably wouldn’t like me,” I mentioned.  
“I dunno. I guess we’re never gonna find out.”

It was a few more drinks until Javier passed out right at the table. After we were laughing so much at the most ridiculous things, I was surprised he had been able to do it so easily. I’d have thought he just died, right there, if it wasn’t for the rising and lowering of his shoulders. Well, then I was bored and I wasn’t going to get anymore whiskey on my own. Someone was bound to cut me off. It was getting late, anyway, and I figured I should have just gone to bed. Kieran was just walking past me to settle in for the night.

“Evenin’, Evie,” he said. “Er, you okay?”  
“I’m _great_,” I replied, standing.  
Kieran caught me when I stumbled. “I’ll get someone to help ya. Just...wait here.”  
“Mm... No. You come with me.”  
“I don’t... I don’t think I should...”  
“It’s fine, it’s fine. C’mon.”

I dragged him over to my tent and pulled him inside. He seemed nervous, but I was able to figure out why he was when he started mumbling about the other men in the camp.

“Don’t even worry about it, Kieran,” I assured him. “It’s gonna be _fine_.”  
♞♞♞

“Mornin’, princess,” Micah said with a snort.  
“Why don’t I learn to not drink?” I complained.  
“Yeah, you really had a lot to drink last night. _Quite a lot_.”  
I looked at him. “Why did you say it like that?”  
“Sean’s already found out, so ya better be careful.”  
“What? Found out _what_? What happened?”

I had only been up for not even five minutes and I already did something I wasn’t supposed to do. The only problem was that I didn’t know what I even did. Micah was being even more vague than usual and it was just worrying me. Was it as bad as he was making it out to be? It felt like my heart was going to stop in my chest and I was going to fall down and die. I’d not gotten so drunk that I... Certainly not with...?

“Aw, c’mon, princess, no use cryin’ about it,” he mocked. “It’s already happened. Ain’t nothin’ you could do about it now.”  
“Hey, why’re you crying?” Charles asked. “What did Micah do this time?”  
“I don’t remember what happened last night,” I sniffled. “Charles, please tell me I didn’t...”  
“Didn’t what?”  
“I didn’t sleep with him, did I?”  
“You didn’t,” Charles reassured me.  
“That woulda been a treat,” Micah said. “Nah, you were too busy goin’ after an O’Driscoll’s dick instead.”  
“I did what?” I choked out.  
“You’ll let an O’Driscoll into your sheets, but not me? Shame on you, princess.”  
“Don’t you got somethin’ better to do?” Charles snapped.

I waited until Micah was gone to say anything else, but I didn’t exactly know what to say at all. Sean knew already what happened; did that mean _everyone_ knew? Clearly Micah and Charles knew, too. So then did that mean Cornelius also knew? Oh, he was going to be so cross with me.

“I need to talk to Sean,” I mumbled, beginning to walk away.  
“Ain’t no one is blaming you, you know,” Charles said, grabbing my arm. “People do stupid things when they’re drunk.”  
“And Kieran?”

I didn’t get an answer, meaning that there were people who blamed Kieran for what happened. I shrugged Charles off with a quiet apology and went to find Sean. At least I knew now why he hadn’t been with me when I woke up. I was almost always up before him, even when I had drank the night before. I could only assume he slept on his bedroll in his tent. I found him standing a few feet from the cliff edge, just taking in the morning view with a cigarette.

“Sean, is now a good time?” I asked quietly.  
“Ya really fucked up, didn’t ya?” he said, looking at me and exhaling cigarette smoke. “That what you’re expectin’ me to say?”  
“I don’t know what I was planning on hearing, but I know I was planning on saying that I’m sorry.”  
“‘Sorry’?”  
“Yes. Because I _am_ sorry. I don’t remember what happened and-and I certainly don’t remember...well..._that_...”  
“Ya know, Evie, I dunno what would be worse. You deciding to fuck an _O’Driscoll_ or you bein’ so drunk you wanna fuck that turd.”  
“It happened, Sean, and I’m sorry. I just... I wanna fix this, okay?”

Sean took a long puff of his cigarette before tossing the butt onto the ground. He shook his head and turned to me completely.

“It ain’t like I blame ya, Evie,” he admitted. “A drunk lady ain’t somethin’ a man should take advantage of.”  
“But Kieran doesn’t--” I began.  
“I seen you walkin’ around after bein’ drunk and heard ya talkin’. You’d fall off this here cliff it there weren’t no one around. So it’s on that O’Driscoll.”  
“Sean, why do I get away with doing something like that when if it was the other way around--”  
“Don’t ask me. I dunno. A drunk lady just ain’t somethin’ to mess around with. If you were _sober_, it’d be a different story. But you weren’t, so it ain’t a different story.”  
“If you weren’t mad at me, you would have come to bed last night.”  
“You have a lot of energy,” Dutch mentioned as he walked past.

My skin became hot and I shot him a side eye to keep his comments to himself. Why wasn’t he in Valentine yet? I scratched the back of my head as I looked back at Sean.

“You do,” Sean said.  
“That doesn’t help,” I muttered. “I’m still sorry.”  
“_Jesus_, ya better not keep sayin’ it every time we see each other.”

He kissed me before leaving to grab his rifle so he could go on guard duty. I really did feel bad about what happened. If the situation were reversed, that if Kieran had been the drunk one, he would still be blamed for it. I had to talk to him about it, too. He was probably feeling just as guilty as I did. Kieran wasn’t easy for me to track down; he was hiding amongst the trees and the horses. Understandable, considering people would be giving him the same kind of side eye I gave Dutch when I wasn’t pleased with him at all.

“Morning, Kieran,” I said.  
He jumped and dropped the horse brush he was holding. “Ev-Evie! Sorry, you scared me... And-And I’m sorry ’bout last night...”  
“I don’t want you to be sorry. _I’m_ sorry.”  
“But, Evie, I--”  
“Whether I was drunk or not, I know you wouldn’t do it without some sort of fight.”  
“I told them, I told all of them, that I didn’t wanna even take you back to your tent, but they ain’t believin’ me. I ain’t about sleepin’ with ladies when they’re out of it like that, ’specially you. I-I know the shit them O’Driscolls did to ya was bad, but I dunno what I can or can’t do. I...” He waited a few seconds. “I sound like a damn pussycat, don’t I? You’re lookin’ at me like I’m crazy or somethin’.”  
“You sound... I don’t know. You don’t sound like a pussycat, Kieran; that I do know. I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”  
“What? N-N-No, not at all. You came on a bit strong, is all, and I didn’t wanna hurt you or scare you, b-but...”

He hadn’t wanted to sleep with me. That was...comforting, somehow, but he’d gone through with it because, as he continued on to explain, I had such a firm grip on his arm that if he pulled away he could possibly hurt me. That was the last thing he wanted to happen. But he didn’t know how to treat me once I got him into my cot. Kieran didn’t go into too much of the graphic details, but he confirmed I had so much energy that he was worried I was going to end up hurting myself.

“Are you...” I stammered. “You’re not... I mean...”  
“I’m not what?” he replied.  
“When you say you didn’t want to sleep with me... I just...”  
“It ain’t like that, Evie; I just didn’t wanna get into trouble from Sean or nobody else and I didn’t wanna hurt you neither! I-I didn’t know what to do and I ended up doin’ what _you_ wanted. I-I like you a lot and I...I didn’t...”  
“For the record, there’s nothing wrong with being a pussycat.”  
“Ain’t most ladies like men like Javier or Arthur?”  
“Ladies can like both. I’m sorry I put you in an impossible situation. All of you can say it’s not my fault, but I need you to at least let me take some of the responsibility. It’s not fair for all of that to fall on your shoulders.”  
“But--”  
“I’m serious, Kieran. It used to be that when I did something wrong, my father would blame something else. Nothing would ever be my fault. Coming here, it’s still like that sometimes, and...and... Well, it isn’t right. I’ll see you later.”

I went to get some coffee, but Cornelius stopped me and dragged me to a more secluded area of the camp. He was going to give me an earful. In some ways, I was ready for it. In other ways, I wasn’t ready. I could tell that, just by the look on his face, he was disappointed in me, but not for the reasons I wanted him to be.

“Drinking that much is irresponsible, Evangeline,” he scolded. “To just simply drink through the afternoon and waste the day away like that is very unbecoming.”  
“I’m regretting the drinking _now_,” I replied.  
“What happened with that Kieran is not your fault--”  
“Yes, it is.”  
“--but I should hope you learned your lesson about all that whiskey.”  
“I never learn. Daddy, I’m sorry to tell you, but I drink quite a bit. I’m upset enough this morning. I don’t need to be upset about anything else.”

Cornelius let out a heavy sigh and left me alone. I kicked the dirt for a few moments, trying to calm myself down. Javier was just coming in from guard duty; he must have been there since before I woke up. He stormed over to me, clearly angry, but I didn’t even try to leave where I was.

“So drinking is what it takes to get you to sleep with someone?” he snapped.  
“I’m sorry?” I mumbled.  
“You heard what I said.”  
“Good on you for actually being mad at me.”  
“I was sitting right there and you went and decided to fuck the O’Driscoll!”

He wasn’t mad at me that I’d actually slept with Kieran; he was mad because I got drunk enough to choose Kieran over him. I swallowed hard and folded my arms across my chest. No one was mad at me for the reasons I needed them to be mad at me.

“Okay, Javier,” I sighed. “One, you were passed out from how much you drank. Two, I’d never have done it if I were sober.”  
“_Ay, Dios mio_, Evie, I’ve been tryin’ to get you to fuck me for months!” he shouted.  
“Don’t get mad at me because I can’t read your mind.”  
“I tell you I love you, and you don’t remember; I kiss you, and you don’t remember. Is there anything you _do_ remember?”

His words made me choke on mine for a moment.

“I... I remember that you’ve always been nice to me, but now you’re not,” I replied quietly. “Javier, I don’t owe you a single thing for being nice to me. That’s just...decency. It’s just decency and you shouldn’t get mad at me just because I can’t read your intentions!”  
“Evie--” he began as I headed toward my tent.  
“No, don’t you ‘Evie’ me! Sleep with you just because you’re nice to me... What kind of world do you think we live in, Javier? If you wanted me so bad, maybe you should have said something up on those mountains!”  
“Where are you goin’?”  
By now, I had grabbed my crossbow from my tent. “I’m going hunting, otherwise I’m going to shoot someone and that someone might be you!”  
“No, you’re not,” Susan said, taking my crossbow from me. “You’ve got chores to do.”

I shouted in frustration and stormed over to where socks needed to be darned and laundry needed to be done. In my anger, I kicked over a bucket of water. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and it was already such a bad day.

“You doin’ okay?” Abigail asked as I sat down.  
“I’m peachy,” I said sarcastically.  
“You really don’t remember anythin’ from last night?”  
“I really don’t, and now Daddy is disappointed in me, Kieran is nervous again, and Javier is mad at me. I never should have left my tent this morning. Now that I think about it,” I stood up and picked up a pile of socks that needed darning, “good day, Abigail.”

I went and hid in my tent for the rest of the morning, just darning socks. There was no reason for me to be outside when I had done what I did. If Javier had been angry that I’d slept with someone other than Sean, then perhaps it would be fine. If Micah hadn’t teased me about it, then perhaps I wouldn’t feel horrible. If Cornelius hadn’t been disappointed, then... Well, I didn’t know. What was I supposed to do? I’d already apologized to who I needed to, but I still didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the fact most of the people in the camp still saw Kieran as an O’Driscoll, despite mine, Mary-Beth’s, and his own words that he wasn’t. For some reason, I felt the need to apologize to Dutch for it. Why did I feel that way? Kieran wasn’t an O’Driscoll, so it wasn’t as if I betrayed him. Still, it was something Dutch would most certainly hold onto should he ever want to use something against me when he was angry.

“Evie?” Charles asked.  
“Come in,” I muttered.  
“You’ve been...hiding in here for a while now.”  
“It’s better in here than it is out there. For me, at least. You can sit if you want.”

Charles took a seat next to me on my cot. If he was going to talk to me about what happened, I was going to kick him out. Okay, well, no, I wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t be a happy conversation. He didn’t like Kieran, either -- almost no one liked him -- and I knew, at least just from the girls, that he liked me himself. Charles wasn’t going to tell me outright that he liked me, not how Sean or Kieran did, and certainly not like Javier had.

“I really like Sean, you know,” I explained. “But... I don’t know...”  
“Hey, if it had been Javier to be caught, things probably would’ve played out the same way as with Sean,” Charles told me.  
“You’re not..._wrong_, Charles, but it would have been the same way as if you got caught, too.”  
“I heard the way Javier yelled at you; you okay?”  
“If anyone wanted me, they had a month and then some to tell me.”  
“You were constantly worried about Sean, so maybe people thought you’d yell at ’em.”  
“I wasn’t purposely saving myself for his return, Charles. It just... It just happened. Things happen. And I can understand what it must be like watching someone you care about decide to pursue someone else, but the way Javier handled it... I’ve never seen him so angry. It’s not fair for him, or for you if you care enough to be upset about Sean and I, but life isn’t fair.”  
“If life was fair, we’d all be rich.”  
I sighed and picked up another sock to be darned. “If life was fair, I wouldn’t have needed to run away from Arkansas.”

We sat in silence for a while. If life was fair, no one would be in the position we were in. I had Sean and I loved him, even if I couldn’t say it out loud. The feelings I had for others, though, maybe had something to do with why I couldn’t say anything like that to his face. Actions spoke louder than words, but words were nice sometimes, too. All that screaming and crying about how I wasn’t a whore -- maybe that was me just trying to convince myself. I’d tried to take what Dutch said about it -- that whores tended to get paid -- and use it as some sort of rationale for it, but now... How far was I stretching the truth?

“There’s nothing great about me, Charles,” I said quietly. “Dutch and I took away the money and the fancy clothes and the jewellery and the nice house. What’s left of me to like? I’m just...pretty; nothing else.”  
“You’re quite skilled with that crossbow of yours, and you can hold your own in a fight,” Charles replied. “That’s what’s to like. I didn’t really know Molly, but from what I know of her is that she didn’t lift a finger to help around camp. She was here because all she wanted was adventure.”  
“I want adventure.”  
“You help around here, Evie -- she wouldn’t even darn a sock. You do that and more. I know you know this. Micah ain’t helpin’ you and I can tell he’s getting inside your head.”  
“I don’t see any of the other ladies cry as much as I do. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them cry.”  
“They’re used to this kinda life. You aren’t. So you cry a lot -- it ain’t the worst thing a person can do.”

Before I could open my mouth to speak again, Susan came and smacked on the side of my tent. She was yelling at me that I had to help her with something. Rolling my eyes, I got up and left the tent with Charles. Dutch was back from Valentine, and he had Strauss and John with him. Only Strauss looked like he was injured.

“We’re packin’ up,” Susan told me. “C’mon, hurry up.”

We’d only been at Horseshoe Overlook for a month and a couple of days, and we were already moving again? Still, I began packing things up. I wasn’t going quickly enough, apparently, because Susan felt the need to scream at me to hurry up.

“Don’t say anythin’,” Karen warned me. “Trust me. I know ya wanna, but trust me...you really _don’t_.”

While I was carrying a box across the camp, I stopped by Dutch’s tent, where he was looking at a map. He looked over when he noticed I was there.

“Is everything okay?” I wondered.  
“That Leviticus Cornwall caught up with us in Valentine,” he said. “The whole town’s shot to hell.”  
“Oh, Dutch, that’s one of Daddy’s clients. What are you doing messing with Mister Cornwall?”  
“Well, I’m sorry, Evangeline, I didn’t realize I was supposed to tell you about the man we was robbin’ back on the mountain.”  
“You don’t have to be a jerk about it, Dutch van der Linde. I came to see if you were okay, but if you’re going to act this way, then forget about it.”

I began to walk away when he got up and stopped me from walking.

“I thought you were supposed to keep your head low, Dutch,” I sighed. “All of us, actually, and now Valentine is shot to hell when you go in the third time? Did you not think someone was going to recognize you and word would get back to him?”  
“You don’t gotta worry. We’re movin’ camps. We’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”  
“I don’t have to worry? Where have I heard that before?” I swallowed hard. “We’re only so lucky that Mister Strauss was injured, not killed.”  
“Yeah, well, we all made it out alive.”  
“I’m...glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“Kieran. He’s not an O’Driscoll, but you all seem to think he is and I felt I needed to apologize to you. The last thing I would want anyone thinking, especially you, is that I betrayed you for sleeping with the enemy.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_
> 
> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

“What’s that?” Abigail asked.  
“What’s what?” I replied.  
“The thing you’re holdin’.”  
“You’ve never seen a parasol before?”

After what happened in Valentine, Dutch led us south. It was hotter, but not quite in a way like Arkansas was hot. The air felt wet, almost, and it was slightly harder to breathe. As long as we were away from Pinkertons and, now, Leviticus Cornwall we should have been okay. My parasol, however, didn’t help like it did in Arkansas. It wasn’t the sun that was the problem here, it was the air and the fact we were near swamp area. Everyone seemed to be cheering up, at least. Even my father was keeping quiet and not complaining about anything.

“I don’t think so,” Abigail admitted.  
“Well, it’s not working here,” I said. “The most it’s doing is keeping the sun out of my eyes, so I suppose that’s something. It’s just not doing what it should be doing.”  
“You likin’ it here at least?”  
“Actually, I do. I’d like it even better if Micah wasn’t here. Do you and Jack like it?”  
“Yes; it’s a nice spot.”  
“You remembered your parasol, but not your jewellery, princess?” Micah asked as he wandered past.  
“I didn’t have possession of my jewellery and I was under the assumption that Dutch would have been wise enough to pack it first,” I snapped.  
“I’ll make sure to tell ’im you said that.”  
“What are you, a child? Telling on me like I smacked you with a stick on purpose.”

I rolled my eyes as Micah continued to walk away. I’d definitely smack him with a stick on purpose if given the chance. He’d get smacked with my parasol if it didn’t cost so much. As far as I could tell, Micah was the only issue thus far. Him, and a bunch of crazies still obsessing over the civil war. I’d not had a run in with them yet, but Arthur had and decided to tell me that I was their type of target. Well, everyone was their target, but I was more likely to get hit than if Sadie was out on her own. Lemoyne was possibly the only state that Cornelius didn’t have any clients, and so the only time he left the camp so far was to hunt.

“I should head into Rhodes soon and see if I can find any work,” I sighed. “As much as I’d love to listen to Miss Grimshaw all day and darn socks or do laundry, I mean. Hm. I need to look at a map. Oh! Mister Matthews!”  
“What is it?” Hosea asked.  
“Would you happen to have a map?”  
“Not on me, at the moment. Ask Arthur; he should have one.”

Hosea kept on walking. No one really talked about it, but there was definitely something wrong with him. I’d found him in the bushes many times either trying to stop himself from coughing or just completely sounding like he was going to cough up his innards. It was worrisome, but when I brought it up to Dutch I was just told to ignore it. California would do Hosea much better than some swampy country.

“Excuse me, Arthur?” I said, walking up to Arthur’s tent.  
“What is it?” he replied.  
“Do you have a map?”

He rummaged around in his satchel before handing me a folded up map of the United States. I looked at it for a moment to see where Clemens Point was situated. I found Rhodes easily, but if my memory from when I was a child served me correctly we weren’t too far from Saint Denis. If I couldn’t find anything in Rhodes, I could make the journey to Saint Denis if I needed to. That was just in case, though. I located the city on the map and sure enough, we were close. I handed the map back to Arthur and began walking back to my tent. Before I made it there, however, Javier stopped me.

“Are you here to yell at me again?” I muttered.  
“No,” he retorted. “You haven’t talked to me in days.”  
“There’s a reason for that, Javier. What do you want?”  
“I was gonna ask if you wanna have a drink with me.”  
“I’m taking a break from drinking.”  
“Huh?”  
“Sorry, did I stutter?” I sighed with frustration. “I said _I’m taking a break from drinking._”  
“No, I heard you just fine. Why you doin’ that?”  
“This might come as a shock to you, Javier, but I don’t like not remembering what I do.”  
“Just one drink ain’t gonna kill you, Evie.”  
“Sure. It’ll be one drink, and then it’ll turn into another, and then another, and another. I need to head into town, so no, I’m not going to drink with you.”

I waved him off and headed into my tent to get changed. I wanted to leave quickly now before Javier could talk to me again and before Susan had the chance to scold me into doing more “house chores”. After changing into one of my dresses, I headed out to go to Rhodes. The camp wasn’t too far from it, either. It would be quicker to get to work, but I was still debating whether or not I should choose Saint Denis in the first place. Staying in a city like that during working days would be nice so I didn’t have to make that trip everyday. Even so, the first place I wandered into was the saloon, which was one of the first things anyone would see entering the town. Most of the people inside, as was the case with most saloons, were men. I just wanted to find whoever ran the place so I could ask them for a job. Just because the place looked elegant it didn’t mean any of the men had class. It wasn’t long before I was receiving whistles. At least in Valentine, the men had the courtesy to try and introduce themselves first. Here, I was definitely out of my element and perhaps my cover was making everyone feel even more confident about how they were treating me already.

Both to my chagrin and relief, they weren’t looking for anymore ladies. I ran out of that place like a bat flew out of hell. Was there somewhere else I could go in Rhodes or was that my only choice? As I was climbing on top of Maple, one of the men who worked there came running out of the saloon. He ran up to me as if he’d been hoping to catch me.

“Everything all right, sir?” I asked.  
“Me and the other guy just talked,” he panted. “You can work here, if you still wanna. Shame to let a pretty girl like you go. You’d bring a lotta customers in.”  
“I would be good for business is what you are saying.”  
♞♞♞

“How’re ya gettin’ on?” Dutch asked, stopping by my tent later in the evening. “Heard ya went out to find another bit of honest work.”  
“Mm-hm. At the saloon in town.”

The flaps of my tent were open considering it was hot inside when they weren’t open. I was sitting on my cot darning a pile of socks when he had come over. He was another person I didn’t talk to upon arriving at our new camp. I was still upset with him over what he had gotten himself into in Valentine.

“You done givin’ me the silent treatment?” he asked. “For good this time?”  
“One of us has to do some honest work to make up for the things that may go wrong, Dutch,” I replied. “So quit saying ‘honest work’ like you’re disgusted by it and then perhaps the silent treatment will be over with.”  
“Whatever it takes to make ya stop givin’ me that sour look all the time, _fine_.”  
“Thank you.”

Dutch sat on the cot next to me; he wanted to talk to me about something, didn’t he? I set the sock down in my lap and looked at him.

“So what do you think?” he wondered.  
“Of what?” I said. “The new camp? It’s nice.”  
“No, I mean the Gray family. Me, Arthur, and Hosea met the sheriff today, and _apparently_ they’re in a long-standin’ feud with some other family, the Braithwaites.”  
“Dutch, I work in the saloon. It’s owned by Mister Gray, but he’s not actually there. I don’t have a thing to say about the Grays because I don’t know anything about them.”  
“Well, they’re all around town. Some of ’em gotta stop into the saloon every now and again. Would ya just keep an ear out for us? Tell us anythin’ you might find useful.”

I sighed and continued to darn the sock. So now I was doing some dirty work for Dutch? How did I not see this coming? I didn’t know what I was doing the dirty work _for_, but it obviously had to do something with money. If money wasn’t involved, then Dutch wouldn’t bother getting involved in whatever it was. Not only was I supposed to concentrate on serving drinks, deal with drunk patrons, whistling, and the touching, but I also now had to eavesdrop on conversations? I moved a strand of hair behind my ear and once again looked at him.

“Who’s ‘us’?” I inquired.  
“That a ‘yes’?”  
“Yes, Dutch, now tell me who’s ‘us’? You and who else?”  
“Hosea, obviously. Arthur and Micah, too.”  
“I’m not telling Micah a single thing to do with this and you know that.”

I took the pile of darned socks to Susan. That was it. I was done for the day. With any luck, no one else would bother me that required me to do any work. Dutch was gone by the time I returned to my tent. Just as I was closing the flaps, Sean sauntered over. He had been on guard duty most of the time already that we’d barely had any time alone together. The only time we’d managed to have together was when he sat with the girls and I while we were working, and the only time we spent alone was at night when we slept together. But he joined me after I was asleep, so did that really count? I was almost dreading spending actual time alone together even though I wanted to do so.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked.  
“Well, everyone’s been busy...” I mumbled. “Are you tired yet?”  
“Oh, no, this MacGuire boy has lots of energy left.”

I had to face my fears sooner or later, and I honestly _did_ miss just being alone with him. Hopefully enough time had passed since the cabin that I would be okay to not need whiskey to get through it. I didn’t know, but I still led Sean into my tent. We’d only ever had sex while drunk, not sober, and whatever happened I was going to remember and there was no hiding behind anything to forget it. It felt like he was almost impatient; like he’d been waiting all day just for this. What he wanted wasn’t going to completely come to fruition, though.

Sean managed to get past pushing my petticoat up; everything seemed to be going fine for a moment. The pain was there, and it was searing, but I was able to get past that on my own and focus on the good feeling. Being in horrible pain the least of my problems and it wasn’t what I was afraid of. What I was afraid of was the seemingly inevitable feeling of panic. Sean didn’t need to tie me up or talk dirty to me in order for me to panic; it was just the fact I was under him. I’d barely began to cry when he stopped.

“It ain’t that bad, is it?” he asked.  
“It’s not you, Sean,” I sniffled. “I-I can’t do it.”  
“No worries. I’ll stop.”  
“I’m sorry...”  
“This why you’re always drunk for it?”  
“Drinking is the only thing that makes me forget what those animals did to me, but I can’t drink anymore because I don’t remember anything at all.”

Sean and I fixed ourselves up and, for a while, we sat on my cot in silence. What else was there to even say? I’d panicked and that was all there was to it. I didn’t expect Sean to understand and I didn’t expect anyone else to understand, either. At least he had immediately stopped, unlike when Dutch had talked me down not very well. Even when Dutch had done so, I still was panicking but allowing him to continue because he so badly wanted to finish.

“Are you okay?” Sean wondered.  
“I’m sorry,” I said again.  
“Ya wanna be alone?”  
“No; no, I don’t.”  
“That shit... It ain’t your fault.”  
“I-I... You wanted this. You wanted me.”  
“Always, Evie, but Sean MacGuire can be a gentleman.”

I looked at him as I wiped my eyes. He was being serious, wasn’t he? Sean, a gentleman? Well, he’d never yelled at me for no reason; only ever raised his voice at me a few times when we first met and only being rude as he was initially because I was rich. I had to wonder if I never saved his life and he handled it on his own if he would have eventually warmed up to me over time or if he would have continued acting sour toward me. Any man could be a gentleman if they wanted to be, but not every man would see a girl crying with panic and stop what they wanted to do.

“O’Driscoll fuckers,” he muttered.  
I sniffled with a sigh. “Sean, you’re something else. N-Not in a bad way.”  
“We know how to treat a lady right. Most of us, anyway.”  
“Do you...want me to finish you off?”  
“_Jesus_, don’t worry about that.” He kissed me before grabbing my hand and holding it. “You gonna be okay?”  
“I should be fine in a while. You being gentle is...a bit...off-putting, Sean.”  
“Ain’t that the truth.” Sean snorted as he laughed. “I love you. Really.”  
“Me, too. Wait. No. I-I mean, I love you, too, not that I love me, too. Oh...”  
“Well, ya finally said it. Ain’t this night full of surprises.”

I leaned against him, but it wasn’t long before I heard Cornelius calling for me. It was getting late and most of us were getting ready to settle in for the night; what did he think he was doing? He must have known Sean was in my tent while both of us were still awake, and so wanted to prevent anything that would damn me further to hell. Sean wasn’t pleased, either, especially when I told him I had to see my father, lest he have a fit that would put him in the ground.

“What do you want?” I asked as Sean and I wandered out of my tent.

Sean wandered over to one of the whiskey cases and proceeded to head to the campfire.

“Sorry, did I interrupt you?” Cornelius said, clearly knowing full well what I suspected him of doing.  
“You could have,” I replied, annoyed.  
He was quiet for a moment. “Is everything alright? Have you been crying?”  
“I... Sort of... Just a little...”  
“That boy didn’t put his hands on you, did he? I assumed you two were, er...”  
“No, Father; he didn’t. And we were getting to it, but I couldn’t do it. So you would have interrupted us.”

My father definitely looked confused by my words. I’d been able to do it with Kieran, so why I hadn’t I been able to do it with Sean? I was missing the alcohol, but he wasn’t putting the pieces together in his head. Of course I wanted to freely be able to be intimate with someone and actually be able to remember it, but as far as I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I could have kept my feelings to myself just to satisfy Sean, but then what if he felt something was wrong?

“Colm and Bonnie took everything from me,” I said. “I know I’ve told you before and I really mean it when I say _everything_.”  
♞♞♞

Sean hadn’t come back to my tent at all. I’d fallen asleep by myself and woke up by myself, and heard him still yammering about his own father while sitting at the campfire. He still sounded drunk, like he didn’t stop once he started. That meant he drank all night and stayed up doing nothing but consuming so much whiskey that I guessed he just forgot about me. I took my time getting dressed before going outside to get some coffee before I had to head into town. In order to get to the coffee, I had to wander past the campfire, where Sean stopped me. It wasn’t what I was expecting to hear, though.

“Oh, look, the mighty _princess_ joins the peasants, eh?” he said.  
I turned to look at him. “What?”  
“Can’t do a fuckin’ thing without cryin’ or havin’ dear old _daddy_ come save ya.”  
“Talk to me when you’re sober.”  
“Whatever you say..._princess_.”  
“Careful about what you’re callin’ her,” Micah mentioned. “She just might threaten to unman ya herself.”

Sean hadn’t been mean to me for months, so what was his problem now? Obviously he’d spoken to whoever was unfortunate to listen to him talk and he’d obviously spent the whole night drinking. Maybe he really had gotten frustrated with me and now the whiskey was encouraging him to take it out on me. I waved him and Micah off. I’d known sooner or later Sean would get fed up with me having to drink just to sleep with him. It was just surprising because of how he was conveying his thoughts. I was standing on the beach when he came and grabbed me from behind.

I went rigid and turned to him. “What do you want now?”  
“Ya didn’t say good mornin’,” he replied.  
“Why would I greet you nicely if you said something uncalled for?”  
He stared at me for a moment. “What?”  
“It wasn’t five minutes ago you were complaining and calling me a princess.”  
“I drank a lot.”  
“Yes, I can tell. Did it bother you that we had to stop?”

It took Sean a good couple of moments to respond. I’d never seen him so blackout drunk he didn’t remember what had happened. I sipped on my coffee as I waited for an answer. Except when he did speak, it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.

“Hey, Evie, when did ya get here?” he said.  
“Alright, this time I’ll really talk to you when you’re sober,” I muttered, handing him my coffee.

As I was walking over to the horses, Susan tried to stop me so I could start getting some house chores done. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her about going later and staying in the camp for now, so I just took off toward town. If she was mad at me, she could bring it up with Dutch or Hosea or whoever else she felt the need to complain to. I was just focused on doing my work in the saloon, deal with the whistling, the grabbing, and the ogling, collect my pay, and begin contributing to the camp again. Maybe I could also go hunting, just to keep me from having to darn another sock for a while longer. Then I’d deal with Sean if, and only if, he was sober enough to talk to me.

Just like Dutch asked me, I tried eavesdropping on anyone I thought was a Gray. Even though I didn’t quite exactly know what I was looking for, I listened anyway. By the time I was done my shift, I only learned they were apparently Scottish, had a lot of money, and the sheriff was a Gray. The extent of my knowledge was basic. I was sure Hosea and Dutch would have expected more and they probably knew all of it already, but I still was going to tell one of them, or Arthur. I’d spent my whole shift eavesdropping that by the time I had to leave it hadn’t felt like I’d done anything at all.

Still, I left with my pay and headed back to camp. When I entered Clemens Point, I found Sean brushing Ennis. I wanted to just contribute and immediately leave again, but he stopped me.

“Somethin’ happen this mornin’?” he asked.  
“Well, now you know how it feels not to remember anything,” I said quietly.  
“Some of the fellers said you might be unhappy.”  
“You greeted me this morning by mocking how I cry and how my father always interrupts us by saying I can’t do anything without him ‘saving’ me. So, yes, I’m unhappy, and if you have a problem with how last night went, you better tell me.”

It seemed like Sean didn’t know what to say, which I could only take that as a sign that he did have a problem with the previous evening. I didn’t want to feel panicked with him, but I couldn’t stop myself. All those memories in the cabin flooded back to me. I had no idea if I’d ever be able to sleep with him sober, and he didn’t deserve to be with a woman who would never remember what happened when she was under him. At least when he drank -- most of the time -- he was able to recall the things that were said and done.

“I love you,” he said.  
“You know I love you, too, Sean,” I murmured. “But...”  
“I don’t mind the crying, but I don’t think you’re a princess. Your dad pisses me off.”  
“If the cabin had never happened then things would be different, I’m sure. But it happened and now that my father understands what really happened, he’s concerned for me.”  
“Can’t ya just ask him to leave?”  
“I’ll ask him when the time feels right. I can’t make the time feel right. He’s only one of the problems in your mind, Sean, and I’ve got plenty more in my mind. You realize the O’Driscolls only ever called me ‘princess’?”  
“Fuck. Evie--”

He tried to grab my hand, but I immediately stepped away. Hearing “princess” come out of the O’Driscolls mouths had been sickening, constantly listening to Micah call me it was rage-inducing, but hearing Sean call me it was something else completely. He’d been drunk and, as Charles had told me, people did stupid things when they were drunk. I knew Sean hadn’t meant it, and yet it had hurt worse than the O’Driscolls and Micah calling me that name combined.

“Now that I think about it, I think it’s better if we stop sleeping together,” I admitted with a shaky voice.  
“I didn’t mean to hurt--” he began.  
“You didn’t and that’s why it hurts more than it should.”  
“Evie!” Dutch shouted. “Come here!”

I wiped at my eyes as I rolled them. Of course he would interrupt, but I’d said what I needed to say. Sean wasn’t going to say anything more and so I made my way over to Dutch’s tent. Without so much of a glance at me, he spoke to me as he read his book. He only wanted to know what I’d found out while working and I told him. Obviously he wasn’t pleased with what I’d gathered, but what else was I supposed to do? I turned to walk away to the community box, but he grabbed my hand.

“You been cryin’?” he wondered, closing his book and standing.  
“It’s what people with emotions do, Dutch,” I retorted.  
“You can hide behind that excuse all ya want, Evie, but I know better than that. What happened?”  
“Nothing that you need to be concerned with.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch was left and decided to pick up a girl from the saloon but she wasn't a prostitute. One thing led to another, and then they were seeing each other on the regular. Tessa Evangeline "Evie" Locke is a wealthy woman, with a wealthy father, with a strong passion for adventure, and a strong disliking of waiting around and being bored to death by the suitors her father introduces to her. Sure, she loves needlepoint, but just like her mother, she wants more than a life of domesticity -- and a life that's more than domesticity is exactly what she's going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're having an out of body experience and go to sleep? You get some weird dreams about your favourite video games. It's really not the worst idea that's come to me while dreaming. Most of my dreams that aren't story related I tend to forget. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy my work? Buy me a coffee~! https://ko-fi.com/burntmeat_

“You’re pathetic!” Susan shouted at me. “You’re a goddamn lady!”

I’d just been minding my own business when she came up to me. Not only was I scared she was yelling at me, I had no idea what it was about. Karen and Mary Beth were next to me and I’d felt one of them jump from being startled. I hadn’t done anything wrong as far as I knew. All I was able to do was sit there and listen to her, hoping that her screaming would give me an answer as to why she was acting that way. I couldn’t make anything out. I was still upset about what I’d done to Sean a few days ago and I’d gotten into an argument with my father earlier on in the day, so I didn’t exactly have much patience before she came up to me.

“Please leave me alone, Miss Grimshaw,” I said.  
“Excuse you?” she snapped. “Do you know who you’re talkin’ to?!”  
“Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it...” Mary Beth whispered.  
I stood up with a huff. “I do know who I’m talking to and who I’m talking to is an old hag!”  
She slapped me in response. “You watch your mouth!”  
“You--”  
“What are you gonna do? _Cry_? The only reason you get away with all that cryin’ is because you’re young and pretty!”  
“Well, I’m sorry that none of us ladies are as ugly as you are.”  
Susan grasped the back of my hair tightly. “Cryin’ because you can’t fuck anybody while sober is gonna get old real fast! Pretty soon ain’t no one gonna--”

I slapped her as hard as I could just to make her let me go. Why did it matter to her who was pretty and who wasn’t? Because no one looked at her the way they looked at me or any of the other ladies? How sad she really must have been to take the anger out on any of us. It clearly drove her crazy knowing that I knew I was pretty and even crazier knowing that I got ogled and touched just for existing. What had happened with Sean must have gotten back to her somehow. No doubt it was Micah who had blabbed about it after hearing it come from Sean’s drunken mouth.

“You little-- Go be of some goddamn use instead of layin’ on your back and take up guard duty!” Susan shouted.  
“No,” I snapped back. “I’m not useless, you idiot hag! I darn these stupid socks, do the stupid laundry, I hunt, and I have an honest job so I can contribute to the funds, too!”  
“Call me a hag one more time.”  
“What are you gonna do, shoot me? Stab me? Hang me?” I shoved her backward. “Do it!” When she didn’t, I shoved her again. “Do it, Susan! I said kill me!”  
“You’re lucky Dutch still has a soft spot for you!”

She turned on her heel and quickly walked off.

“Yeah, that’s right!” I called after her. “Run off while you still got a working hip to do it!”

I groaned and sat back down to continue darning. Mary Beth and Tilly sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say. Honestly, I was so fed up with the constant belief that I was just some timid little flower that couldn’t fight back. If it came down to it, I would have wrestled with Susan on the ground until someone had to pry me off of her. Speaking of prying, Dutch wandered over. I thought that perhaps he was there to come onto Mary Beth again, but no.

“What was with all the screamin’?” he demanded.  
“Ask Miss Grimshaw,” I replied.  
“I’m askin’ _you_.”  
“Miss Grimshaw came over here yellin’ a bunch of nonsense about Evie,” Mary Beth said. “Evie was just standin’ up for herself, that’s all.”  
“You really ain’t havin’ a good time, are ya?”  
“No, Dutch, I am not,” I sighed. “The O’Driscolls should have killed me. I gave Miss Grimshaw the chance, but she walked off like the sour old lady she is whether she denies it or not. Are you going to yell at me next, too?”  
“No. Just...keep it down.”  
“She’s the one who goddamn started it. Soft spot for me or not, even if everything was fine you’d leave me for someone younger eventually. It doesn’t matter. Anyone you have a soft spot for gets an easier ride, even old women who take their aging anger out on younger ladies. I’ve seen that photo of her when she was younger and two of her couldn’t even make up just how pretty Karen or Tilly are.”  
“You done?”  
“No. If no one wants me here, tell me to leave and I’ll leave and you won’t see me ever again.”  
“Now you’re just overreacting, don’t ya think?”  
“Am I?”  
“Listen, you just need to calm down--”  
“_I am calm_!”

Dutch sighed and wandered over to my tent, and after retrieving my crossbow and putting it on Maple he came back over to me and pulled me to my feet. I didn’t bother arguing as he dragged me toward my horse.

“Charles!” he shouted, putting me on top of Maple. “You take this girl hunting and don’t bring her back till she’s nice and calm!”  
“Oh, yes, just shove me off to someone else like you’ve always done,” I mocked. “How very _manly_ of you, Dutch. I see becoming a deputy hasn’t changed anything. Maybe if I’m lucky those Raiders will--”  
“Shut up. You don’t wanna die and I know that.”  
“You don’t know about anything that I want.”

Dutch waved me off as Charles mounted Taima. I begrudgingly rode Maple away from camp, following Charles closely. It wasn’t until we made it far enough from camp that he spoke to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“No,” I muttered.  
“Miss Grimshaw cares, you know.”  
“She’s got a twisted way of showing it... I think I’m fresh out of tears, so at least I won’t be crying over this.”  
“You had that talk with Sean the other day and then that big fight with your father, and now Miss Grimshaw.”  
“Oh, I’m...” I sighed and leaned forward to pat the side of Maple’s head, “I’m so tired, Charles.”  
“Do you...want to leave?”

Maybe I did want to leave. Maybe I wanted to be on my own. But I’d miss some people and if I just left I’d never see them again. Not to mention if I ever crossed paths with them again in the future, I didn’t know what would happen. However, as long as my father was in camp I couldn’t just leave. I would certainly not want to travel with just him -- granted, we’d be able to survive with little to no issues, but I knew he eventually would want to return to Arkansas.

“If things continue to...” I let my voice trail off.  
“I’m not gonna tell Dutch or anyone,” Charles assured me.  
“If things continue to go the way they have been, I might not have any choice. What Dutch has gotten himself into this time... I-I...”  
“I know what you mean. All we can do is wait, Evie.”

If there was money at the end of whatever Dutch was planning, then I hoped things would turn out all right. But what exactly was the likelihood of that happening? We were supposed to be fine in Valentine, but then Dutch made all that mess in town. How long was it until people knew what was happening? Clearly the sheriff didn’t know that a whole load of criminals had taken up camp near his town. And now the other rich family was being played by Hosea. It really was a dangerous game.

“This better be worth it, Charles,” I mumbled.  
♞♞♞

While I was sitting at the campfire to try and relax, Sean came and plopped himself down on the ground. I’d avoided talking to him because I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say. I felt like I hadn’t said what I wanted to say; at least not completely. But what _did_ I want to say? Him being around me didn’t help my thinking, and so I got up to go elsewhere.

“Hey, Evie,” Javier said as I walked past him.  
“Good evening,” I replied quietly.

I kept walking until I was a little bit further along the beach. It didn’t take long for Javier to chase after me. Did he not realize I wanted to be alone? I didn’t need him coming on to me when I was trying to think, and I was still feeling sour about how he’d gotten mad at me. He’d asked me to drink with him and that was his way of wanting to apologize, perhaps, but I meant it when I said I didn’t want to drink anymore. One drink would turn into multiple drinks since I became uncontrollable.

“You’ve been quiet,” Javier mentioned. “Not just with me, but with everyone.”  
“I didn’t stop to talk to you because I don’t want to talk,” I said, blunt.  
“I’m sorry for getting mad, but--”  
“It’s none of your business who I sleep with. What happened with Kieran wasn’t even supposed to happen. I still feel guilty that I did that to Sean, and it would be just the same as if it was you. The only difference would be no one would have put the blame on either of us.”

Javier sighed, appearing to be slightly annoyed. Why did it matter to him who I slept with, anyway? He wasn’t my father, he wasn’t Sean, and he wasn’t anyone else who needed to be concerned with what I did. I felt bad, it wouldn’t happen again unless both Kieran and I agreed, and that was that. Many of the others in camp wanted to make it seem like I was looser than I really was. Clearly there was still some resentment for coming from a rich family. It just wasn’t exactly being shoved in my face like when I first arrived in Blackwater.

“It’s my business,” Javier muttered.  
“I should slap you for thinking so,” I snapped. “Why would it be your business?”  
“It’s ’cause I love you, _amiga_.”  
“That’s hardly an excuse. Besides, you probably only love me because I’m pretty. You and I are both vain, Javier.”  
“So then why do you like me, too?”  
“Because you were nice to me when not many others were and because I thought that you were handsome.” I rolled my eyes. “And I suppose it’s because I like that you can sing and play the guitar. You can’t tell me you like me because I’m nice, since...since lately I’m not.”  
“Well, ain’t being pretty enough?”  
“Not to me, it’s not.”

Never mind the fact that I could read, or hunt, or fight for myself, all anyone ever truly saw me as was some pretty delicate flower. I supposed that maybe I had always been a bit outspoken, even before I left Arkansas, and living the way I was now just amplified it. Maybe the stresses were finally getting to me, paired with what happened at the cabin. I didn’t want to cry anymore just because I was upset or because I was angry -- that was still a weakness, wasn’t it?

“You’d best give up on me,” I stated. “We’re never going to sleep together unless I’m drunk and we already know I’m not drinking anymore.”  
“Have you tried being on top?” Javier wondered.  
I felt my face become hot as I looked at him. “I fail to see how that would help anything or solve the issue.”  
“You give Dutch a chance. You give Sean a chance. You even give that O’Driscoll a chance. Why not me?”  
“Javier, what happened with Kieran was barely a chance. Dutch was... Dutch was a chance at getting away from the life I hated. And Sean was opportunistic. If it had been you who had been being held by bounty hunters, you could have been in Sean’s position. But, no, you decided not to tell me anything and got mad at _me_ because I can’t read minds.”  
“Well, I thought I was bein’ obvious.”  
“What Sean did to tell me he wanted me was obvious. Jeez, even the things Dutch did when I first met him that told me he wanted me was obvious. You? Not obvious. Yelling at me that you want me to have sex with you is the wrong kind of obvious.”  
“You want flowers? Would that be obvious enough?”  
“That could have been a start. Could you please just leave me alone for the time being? I really do need to think.”

Javier wasn’t satisfied with the talk he initiated and stormed off. Maybe he could go get drunk himself and fall asleep at a table again or wallow in self pity. Well, no, he would never wallow in self pity. While he went to go get drunk or rant to someone and was able to have some sort of escape, I was left with my thoughts of self-loathing. I had been thinking lately about Bonnie. My thoughts wanted me to be more like her, in the sense that she was no bullshit and so tough that the O’Driscolls were scared to cross her. Maybe then I would have been able to get my point across better and I wouldn’t always be so tearful or quick to explode. Then there were the thoughts of how much of a horrible person I was for hurting Sean, even if he didn’t exactly show it. I didn’t know what was completely wrong with me. In some ways, it felt that maybe I was going crazy.

“Evie?”  
I sighed, frustrated. “Can’t anyone tell I’m trying to be alone-- Sean!”  
Sean wandered over to me. “What do ya got to be worried about this time? Ya got that look.”  
“I don’t know what to say to you.”

There was a long silence. I loved him enough that I wanted him to find a lady who could actually sleep with him without the need to be drunk or feel pain. At the same time, though, I still wanted to be with him. Of course I did. I turned to look at him, swallowing hard.

“You know I love you,” I said. “But there’s no possible way, at least not right now, that I could give you what you want while I’m sober.”  
“That don’t mean you gotta leave me,” Sean replied.  
“There will be a time and place that you’ll want what I can’t give you.”  
“I want _you_, Evie. _Jesus_. I can go a long while without fuckin’ a lady.”  
“You’re the epitome of grace, Sean MacGuire.”  
“Y’know, it was four years before me and you did it. I know you’re one sophisticated lady, Evangeline Locke; you’re gonna want somethin’ more outta me than--”

I held my hand out to make him stop talking. I’d told people before and I’d continue to say it -- I would make a terrible wife. Even though I could do laundry and darn socks now, I still didn’t know how to cook. But above it all, what kind of wife would I be if I couldn’t give him, or whomever I ended up marrying, sex? If I couldn’t do that, then there would be no children, either.

“Sean, I really can’t--” I began.

Rather than letting me finish, he grabbed me and kissed me. I instinctively kissed him back, even going as far as pressing myself up against him. It was an old habit I was clearly falling back into -- saying I didn’t want something and going right back to it. At least... At least Sean was more understanding than Dutch had ever been.

“Where’s your dad to interrupt?” he asked as he pulled away.  
“Sean, I...” My voice came out in a huff. “I’m...”  
“I never said sorry, for...y’know...callin’ ya what I called ya. I’m sorry.”  
“You should be.”  
“Evie, do ya really want us to stop?”  
“I’m not sure what I want.”

I was tired of the arguing with my father I always seemed to get in, or the arguing Javier and I did, or the glaring I did at Dutch. I was tired of darning and doing laundry. It would have been better for me to just leave and be on my own. But that was irrational of me to think. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t think straight. Maybe if things could settle down and I could stop being so high strung, things would start to be okay again.

“Somethin’ else wrong?” Sean asked. “How you’re actin’ today can’t just be ’cause--”  
“Daddy got a letter from Declan,” I interrupted. “You know, the man who is apparently my fiancé. My father has his letters sent into Saint Denis, so Declan doesn’t know we’re in Rhodes. Anyway, Daddy wants me to meet with Declan again to talk. He...really wants me to go home and get married, and that’s what the argument was about this morning. I guess it bothers me more than I thought.”  
“You gonna go meet him?”  
“I don’t know. This is a man who only likes me because I’m pretty and refuses to accept anything I want. He can’t ride a horse, either. Declan was born with a silver spoon in his mouth just like me, but he let it go to his head. Pair that with the fact he’s training to become a preacher... I tell him everything that’s happened and he’ll probably try to lynch me himself. If you think my father is bad...”

Just the thought of being in the same room as Declan made me feel uneasy. Why had it taken him so long to ask my father for us to meet? I didn’t understand and I was quite scared. He was a handsome man, there was no denying it, but he was horrible. If I was going to eventually settle down, it was not going to be with someone like that.

“We kill people and steal from ’em and you’re sayin’ he’s bad?” Sean asked with a snort. “_Jesus_.”  
“I’d be locked in the house all day doing nothing but chores or sitting in church,” I told him. “No reading, no hunting, no horseback riding. I’d be there to supply children and that’s all. I can understand where my father is coming from. He wants to take me away from a life of danger since it’s done all this to me, but I can’t be a prisoner for the rest of my life to someone like Declan. I’m not scared of him; I’m scared of what he wants.”

I decided then that perhaps it would be best to just go see him and try to get him off my back. But I was going to have to bring someone with me and I didn’t know who it should have been. I was used to bringing Sean with me to talk to people, but now I was just considering Charles. If I couldn’t make Declan leave me alone, Charles could. He always seemed to have my best interest in mind, so maybe he was the answer. I also considered Javier, but I was worried that, if Declan even laid his hands on me, his reaction would be to either shoot him or knife him in the throat.

“What are ya thinkin’ about?” Sean wondered.  
“If I do go, who am I going to bring?” I replied.  
“Worried I’m gonna slit his throat?”  
I stared at him for a moment. “Well, _now_ I am.”  
“Even if you end up leavin’ me, I’ll help ya. Who are ya thinkin’ of bringin’?”  
“You, Javier, or Charles. If Dutch wasn’t busy with that scam of his, I’d consider him, too.”  
♞♞♞

“I’m sorry for asking you to come all the way down to Strawberry for this,” I mumbled.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Charles said. “Where’d you say to meet?”  
“Welcome Centre.”

As we approached the hotel, I saw that there was a carriage rather than a horse. That just proved that Declan was there before us and solidified that he most likely still hadn’t learned how to ride a horse. Charles and I hitched Taima and Maple up, but he stopped me just before I could walk toward the stairs to head inside.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.  
“We’re already here, so...” I sighed. “Was this a bad idea?”  
“Dunno, but somethin’ needs to be done about him, right?”  
“Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, the hotel owner told us which room Declan was in. What I was doing needed to be done, like Charles said, but I was so nervous about it. As we approached the door, there was nothing I wanted to do more than turn around and run back off to Lemoyne. Of course I couldn’t do that; it would have just been a waste of time otherwise.

“Hey, even if he doesn’t let me in, I’ll be right out here,” Charles reassured me. “Somethin’ happens and I’ll be right there.”  
“Thank you. Alright.”

I took a deep breath before knocking on Declan’s door. It was a moment before he answered the door. He didn’t look happy in the slightest and I couldn’t assume as to why. There could have been many reasons, possibly most of them being attributed to me. I didn’t know what to say to him. The urge to slap him and get it out of the way was strong, but I’d not seen him in months and that would only make things worse.

“Tessa,” he sighed, folding his arms across his chest.  
“H-Hello, Declan,” I replied quietly. “This is Charles.”  
“He’s not the one you left Arkansas for, is it?”  
“Does it matter? My father wants me to speak with you and he said you want to speak with me, too.”  
“You can come in, but this...” Declan looked at Charles, visibly cringing, “_fellow_...can stay out here.”  
“That okay with you, Evie?” Charles asked.

I looked up at him. Even though we’d already agreed he would stay outside in the situation Declan didn’t let him in, he was still asking me if it was fine? It wasn’t fine, but I trusted Charles when he told me he’d be there if I needed him. I would have preferred him to be in the room with me; however, should there be a third party listening to what Declan was saying, the things that needed to be said to get him off my back wouldn’t be said.

“Sure...” I squeaked.

Declan rolled his eyes as he let me into the room. There was much silence as I sat in a chair and he in the other. He was looking at me like he was waiting for an explanation as to why I brought Charles, or someone “like” Charles, with me. Going out on my own around Lemoyne was fine, but travelling all the way back to Strawberry on my own? Not a chance. Besides, even when our camp had been closer to Strawberry, I had the nerve to bring Sean with me. I looked around nervously until I decided to speak first.

“How’s... How’s your training?” I inquired.  
“It’s fine, though I had to put it on hold to come out here,” he admitted. “Hopefully this doesn’t cause too much setback.”  
“It shouldn’t be too horrible, but if you’re expecting me to apologize it won’t happen.”  
“I expected for you to say that. Well, Tessa, I assume you know why I wished to speak with you.”  
I folded one of my legs over the other. “Nothing you can say will make me marry you or return to Arkansas. My father tried already.”  
“Why don’t you see reason? I know you’re living in a tent in the mud and that is no way for a lady, especially a lady of God, to live.”  
I let out a laugh. “‘A lady of God’? Hardly. The things I do now are the things that you would have forbidden me to do if we were to get married. I hunt, I read, I ride horseback. Granted, I learned how to launder and darn, but that was for other reasons.”

Declan didn’t like what came out of my mouth. He looked rather angry, really. I didn’t know if it was because I laughed at him or because I told him what I was free to do. How could a lady be a supposed lady of God if she no longer believed? Well, it wasn’t like he knew what I did or didn’t believe in anymore just yet.

“Listen, Declan,” I said, “I agreed to come speak with you just to quash the idea that we will ever be married. We won’t be. You would not want me anymore, anyway.”  
“So you lie to your father, you lie to your friends, you lie to my grandfather, give away your whole life, just to gallivant in the woods with a _redskin_?”  
“He’s not the only one I’m ‘gallivanting’ with. I had my reasons for leaving and one of them was to get away from marrying you. You only want to marry me because I’m attractive.”  
“Is it a problem to want a beautiful wife?”  
“Vanity is a sin, so only wanting me because I look good is quite sinful. I know I am pretty, too, so that’s also sinful on my part. You should be looking for a modest girl to marry. Not me.” I paused. “_Especially_ not me.”

He wasn’t going to let up. He went off on a tangent that it didn’t matter if I was beautiful; I was the one he wanted and he wasn’t going to settle for some other mediocre looking woman. It didn’t matter what he said to me, though -- that I could be saved, that Father O’Malley could re-baptize me, that he would ensure no ill thoughts were brought to me. I wasn’t going to return anywhere with him and I certainly wasn’t going to let him scare me or threaten me into agreeing. Declan really was threatening me with things Cornelius already tried on me, including funding the Pinkertons to force me back. They were already being funded by Cornwall to stop gangs like ours; they weren’t going to have time to track me down and drag me around. The threats from my father were empty and had been meant to scare me, but Declan would see those threats to fruition if given the chance.

“That would put a big target on your back,” I admitted.  
“Don’t try to make me out that I would suddenly be the bad guy, Tessa,” he shot back.  
“If you get the Pinkerton’s involved more than they already are, that would be a dangerous game you would get yourself into. It could possibly get you killed. Now, I...I may not like you, Declan, but I don’t want you to get killed because of a bad decision on your part.”  
“How generous of you.”  
“This isn’t something you should get involved in. I’m not returning to Arkansas. I’m not marrying you. I’m not being forced back. That is that.”

Declan could put all the blame on me for the situation all of us were in, but I wasn’t going to let him pull or push me into a loveless fate. I was getting ready to have to tell him everything that happened with Bonnie and the O’Driscolls. But it depended on how he approached the next thing he would try to address. He didn’t speak again, though, and I stood up.

“If that’s all, I guess I’ll go,” I announced.  
“Just wait,” he immediately said.  
“You can’t scare me. I’ve been through much scarier than you. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m still going through scarier things than whatever you could say or threaten.”  
“Tessa, you’re being a fool. Honestly. If your life was truly in danger, do you think they would come save you? They’re criminals. What possible morals could they have that would tie them to you?”  
I nodded and put my hands on my hips. “To start, I left Arkansas pregnant, alright? Not that it matters, but Charles isn’t the one I left with. The man who was the father -- he and I are no longer together. Wondering why I’m not big enough to just about give birth? I was taken by a rival gang, tied up, and gutted, months ago. My mother was in that gang and she beat me and allowed the men to do what they wished to me. Nearly two weeks I was missing. Nearly two weeks Charles and another man spent in the cold looking for me. They could have just left me to die, but they didn’t. When I had nightmares, and I still do, they slept next to me so I could feel safe. Daddy got taken a while ago, too, and Charles helped me get him back. Because of what happened to me, I can’t sleep with anyone while sober; I can’t rest easy; and I have scars all over my body.   
So don’t you tell me about morals and how I’m being a fool when you don’t know the half of it. I don’t want to be married to you because you’re rude, insensitive, boring, and, quite honestly, I prefer if the man I’m going to marry can ride a horse. You shouldn’t want me anymore because I nearly had a child out of wedlock with a criminal, I’ve slept with multiple people, my body is damaged, and I can’t give you children.” I clapped my hands together with a smile. “Do I make myself clear?”

Declan blinked at me, clearly unimpressed. I’d just poured so much information out to him that he probably never thought he would ever hear. Hopefully everything was enough to make him decide that I really wasn’t worth all the chasing and arguing. Whatever the result was going to be, I was sure my father wasn’t going to be overly pleased. As long as I got Declan off my back and to leave me alone, I didn’t care.

“What you’ve made it clear to me is that you’re a filthy whore,” he snarled.  
“Whatever, Declan,” I huffed.  
He grabbed my arm, tightly. “How about I have you committed instead? That way, you can’t have anything.”  
“Now you’re just being irrational.” I stepped closer to him despite the grip he had on me. “I really meant it when you said you can’t threaten me with anything.”

He let me go and just as immediately slapped me sharply enough that my lower lip bled. It wasn’t the worst thing anyone could do to me, but it made me think of how powerless I had been during Bonnie’s hitting and kicking. I was furious. Why did Declan think he had the right to lay his hands on me like that? Did he think I wouldn’t have the nerve to hit him back? Did he think it would have brought me “back to my senses”? I brushed a finger against my blood lip as I stood up straight. Swallowing hard, I moved a strand of hair out of my face. It wasn’t a few more seconds that I punched him in the face. He really hadn’t been expecting for me to hit him back and it took him a long moment for him to recover. I would have walked out, but I wanted to get it across that I was serious about everything I said. 

With one movement, though, he grabbed me and smacked my head on the edge of the armoire. For a few seconds, I saw double as Declan grabbed me again. He was going to try and beat me into submission, but that plan wasn’t going to work out. Either he really didn’t believe I’d be helped or he somehow simply forgot Charles was outside; it didn’t matter. The door was kicked open and Charles wasted no time in punching Declan hard enough that he let me go and stumbled backward slightly.

“Lay another hand on her and it’ll be more than a punch next time,” Charles promised.  
“Fine!” Declan shouted. “You want this whore; you can have her. She--”

Charles punched him again, this time knocking him out. He sighed and turned to me. I wasn’t seeing double anymore, so at least that was fixed. But my head and lip were both hurting, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to vomit. I didn’t know why I wanted to vomit; maybe it was the hit on the head or maybe I had been nervous that Declan was going to try something else.

“You okay?” Charles asked.  
“I’ll be fine,” I sniffled. “Thank you. I mean it; thank you.”  
“You can ride with me on the way back so you can rest.”  
“Ow...”  
“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”


	23. Chapter 23

_**THIS CHAPTER IS A FIX-IT.**_

As I was walking through camp to occupy myself from the headache I had, Micah called out to me a few times. Considering he was with Pearson, Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea, I thought that perhaps I was in the clear from him coming on to me. I pressed my hand against the side of my head to hopefully ease the headache. Whatever he was going to say, I just hoped it didn’t make my head feel any worse than it currently was.

“Tell ’im, princess,” Micah demanded, sounding like he was in a hurry.  
“What am I saying to who?” I replied.  
“Tell Dutch that this is a chance to end the feud with Colm O’Driscoll once and for all.”  
I put my hand down at my side. “Excuse you?”  
“Pearson was out by Rhodes and he came across some of his boy’s,” Dutch explained. “They suggested a parlay.”  
“Trap.”  
“Just what I was thinkin’,” Hosea piped up.  
“Wait, there are O’Driscolls? _Out here_?”  
“Calm down, princess,” Micah mocked. “Ain’t like there’s much.”  
“Either way, it sounds like a trap.”  
“Listen to the lady, Dutch,” Arthur pleaded.

Dutch sighed and looked at me. I was concerned and I had a right to be -- it was Colm O’Driscoll, for goodness’ sake. How was it possible that after so many years and after so much pain that a parlay was supposed to fix everything? Why now? Why had it taken so long? Of course, Dutch shook his head at me and agreed to go meet with Colm.

“What he did to you, what he did to _me_, you’re going to forgive him?” I asked. “Mister Matthews, he’s going to get someone hurt or worse. Do something -- please!”  
“There’s nothin’ I can do, Evie,” Hosea replied.  
“All this will get sorted,” Micah said.  
“You’re no help whatsoever,” I snapped. “Always encouraging Dutch to do ridiculous things and almost getting people killed.”  
“I’m willin’ to put everything behind me,” Dutch told me as he mounted the Count. “Why ain’t you lettin’ me?”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. Wait; no, I could believe it. What I couldn’t believe was that I thought he’d understand why this was such a horrible idea, that he’d understand why under no circumstances whatsoever that I’d ever ask him forgive Colm O’Driscoll. I looked up at him with a sigh. There really was no crying I wanted to do. Maybe I really was all dried up. I felt that I should have started crying at what he wanted me to do, but I couldn’t. That didn’t stop me from feeling some sort of betrayal.

“He killed our baby, Dutch.” I inhaled sharply and backed away. “You know what? Go ahead and ride directly into a trap. See if I care, because you certainly don’t.”  
“Faith, Evie.”

I shook my head and waved him off. He could take that faith of his and try to convince himself that the things he was doing were right, but I couldn’t believe it myself. Why did he deserve for me to have faith in him? Why did he deserve anyone to have faith in him? I should have just packed my things, said goodbye to the camp, got on Maple and took Cornelius with me and left for good. But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to leave. Dutch wasn’t actively putting anyone in danger in this situation, at least none of those who were in camp. I was definitely concerned for Arthur, but I knew he could handle himself. Maybe Colm would do everyone a favour and start a shootout and rid the camp of the Micah problem.

“I should have taken a shift today,” I muttered to myself as I walked along the beach.  
“_Hola_, Evie,” Javier called over.

I jumped and looked in the direction he had spoken from. Javier was amongst the trees, not too far from me, and I realized that we were both a good distance away from camp. What was he doing just wandering around in the forest, anyway? That was a strange place to spend his time.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” I said.  
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied with a shrug. “Perfect timing, actually. You wanna come over here?”

I sauntered over to where he was, and that was when I realized he’d been picking flowers. Boez, his horse, had a bunch of flowers poking out from one of his saddlebags. Javier had taken me seriously when I’d said that flowers could have helped. But that was before, when Sean was missing, and I didn’t think he would pick the flowers. Buy them, sure, but not go out of his way to pick them himself. Perhaps he figured that I’d appreciate them more if he did it himself. Well, I did, and the gesture wasn’t lost on me.

“I was just finishing up when I saw you walking around,” he admitted, taking the bunch out of the saddlebag. “Thought maybe it’d be best to wait till I got back to camp, but we’re alone out here.”  
“You know,” I sighed as he handed them to me, “it would have been nicer if you did it unprompted.”  
“If you don’t want ’em, give them back.”  
“No, I like them...”

He’d obviously been joking when he asked for them back. I appreciated what he did whether I had to tell him or not.

“How’s your head, _amiga_?” he asked.  
“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” I mumbled. “It should be fine in a couple more days. Javier, I know what you want in exchange for these flowers.”  
“Hey, whoa. It don’t have to be now. If you don’t ever wanna do it, it ain’t like I’m gonna stop loving you.”  
I shook my head at him. “You love me? You really do?”  
“Wouldn’t keep chasin’ you if I didn’t.”

There was flaw with that logic. Plenty of women could be chased by a man and as soon as they got what they wanted from the woman, they could easily move on. What was to say that Javier wasn’t like that? I didn’t want to seem like a trophy for him. I knew Sean really loved me because I put him through enough and he still didn’t give up on me. He was giving me the space I needed and he was going to be there if and when I was ready to return to him. I did like Javier, too, and it wasn’t like that was a secret, either.

“I don’t want to sleep with anyone else, Javier,” I admitted. “And it’s not because I don’t like you. Sean and I had a conversation when I got back from Strawberry and-and if I wasn’t okay sober with him, I don’t think I’ll be okay sober with you.”  
Javier nodded with a sigh and put his hands on his hips, and looked at the ground. “I know I got mad at you about what you did with Kieran. But all I’m askin’ for is a chance, here.” He stepped forward slightly and grabbed one of my hands. “If you wanna stop, we’ll stop.”  
♞♞♞

“You okay?” Javier asked as he fixed himself up.  
I adjusted my petticoat with a shaky sigh. “I’m... I’m fine. Sorry, it’s-it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do it sober...”  
“I know.”

The reason I couldn’t have sex sober wasn’t because I was, well, sober, but rather because the feeling of being under someone, feeling trapped, made me remember how helpless I felt at the cabin. Javier and I hadn’t returned to camp; I ended up with my back against a tree and holding onto him as tight as I could. Once I got past the pain, the only issue was keeping myself quiet. Except it was so uncomfortable that I had to feign being scared to get him to stop.

“You don’t do this often in a forest, do you?” I wondered, picking the bunch of flowers up.  
“It ain’t the strangest thing I’ve done,” Javier admitted.  
“What’s stranger than doing this kind of thing in a forest...?”  
He kissed the side of my head. “You don’t want to know. I’m gonna head back to camp; you coming?”

Back in camp, I noticed that at least Dutch and, unfortunately, Micah were back. I had thought Arthur was going to come back with them. What had even happened with Colm? I wandered up to Dutch as he was reading.

“Everything go alright?” I asked.  
“I guess,” he replied.  
“Where’s Arthur?”  
“Dunno. We were supposed to meet him after, but he never showed.”  
“That doesn’t sound good, Dutch.”  
“He should be fine.” Dutch stood from his chair and closed his book. “Where were you?”  
“Picking flowers with Javier.”

He didn’t need to know what I had just done in the forest. That wasn’t any of his business. Of course, Dutch was able to tell when I was lying and when I was telling the truth. I wasn’t worried about him knowing I was lying, but rather him trying to stir things up with Cornelius _because_ of the lie. I ended up flinching when Dutch reached over to me.

“Calm down; I ain’t gonna hit you,” he sighed as he pulled something out of my hair.  
“Don’t just suddenly raise your hand to me,” I retorted.  
He tossed the piece of bark he got from my hair away. “Pickin’ flowers? Right. How many boys is that now?”  
“You make it sound like I’m starting a collection.”  
“Ain’t that what it is?”  
“You’re a jerk, Dutch van der Linde!”

I stormed off toward a secluded area to be alone again. I had no idea why he always said things that he knew would make me upset. Did he think being a jerk would make me go back to him? Did he remember Javier yelling at me about Kieran and now I’d gone and given him the time of day? It wasn’t because Javier had been a jerk to me; in fact, I made it obvious that I didn’t want Javier because he’d been rude for a good while. My headache was gone from before, but my stress was slowly coming back.

“I’m done,” I whispered, folding my arms across my chest and walking back and forth. “I’m done, I’m done, I’m done...”  
“What are you done for?” Hosea asked.

He must have tried to find a secluded spot, too, as he usually did when I found him having coughing fits. Instead he found me talking nonsense to myself. I didn’t know what to tell him. Anything I said to him about the camp or Dutch would end up being relayed back to, well, Dutch. But if I didn’t say anything to him, he would still relay that he found me saying what I said. Either way, once relayed, Dutch would try to talk to me about what was going on.

“Why can’t I do anything without someone else finding out about it?” I inquired. “If I so much as blink, somehow Dutch knows about it.”  
“You ain’t thinkin’ of leaving, are ya?” Hosea said.  
“What if I said ‘yes’?”  
“Are we talkin’ hypothetically?”  
I nodded. “Yes, Hosea.”  
“Well,” He sat on a tree stump, “I’d tell ya to make sure that’s what you really want. Once you leave, you’d have to stay gone.”  
“That’s what I thought. Josiah can come and go as he pleases.”  
“Trelawny is different, Evie. This life ain’t for everybody. I don’t think most people would blame you if ya left.”

Not everyone would blame me if I took Maple and ran away, but enough of them would. Spending so many months trying to convince everyone that I wasn’t weak would have been wasted if I just left. The thing that would have forced me to leave, too, was Dutch being a jerk. Anyone who didn’t like me would think that I could handle so many horrible things, but as soon as someone like him was rude to me I had to leave. It wasn’t even just him that would make me leave, of course. If horrible things kept piling up, I was sure most people would have the frame of mind to pack up and go elsewhere.

“No, I knew what I was getting myself into,” I mumbled. “If I survived the O’Driscolls, I can survive whatever we’re doing here. Mister Matthews?”  
“Uh-huh?”  
“What are we doing here?”  
“Dutch thinks the Gray family and the Braithwaites are sitting on a bunch of money.”  
“What do you think, then?”  
“Could be something worth our time.”  
“It better not be another Valentine.”

As soon as I walked away, I heard Hosea go into a coughing fit. I rolled my eyes and headed for my tent, only Sean grabbed my hand to keep me from going inside.

“You left just so you could go to Javier?” he asked.  
I dropped the flowers on the ground. “I didn’t ‘just’, Sean.”  
“He’s sayin’ ya did it sober. _Sober_.”  
“For God’s sake.” I pulled him into my tent. “It was up against a tree, okay? Why are you mad at me? I thought we agreed it was okay for us to--”  
“We’re stayin’ apart ’cause you said you needed time. What you did with _Escuela_ ain’t time.”  
“Truthfully, Sean, I just wanted to get him off my back. I thought that maybe I would end up panicking how I usually do, but it never set in. I had to fake it to make him stop. I like him, but...he wouldn’t stop asking. Not that it’s any of your business but I don’t want to try to do it with him again.”  
“Don’t stop just ’cause I’m mad at ya.”

His voice had come out sarcastic. I grabbed his arm when he turned to leave my tent. Once he turned back to me, I kissed him. I didn’t want him to be upset with me or feel like he hadn’t been enough. We’d tried to do it while I was sober, of course, but it so obviously hadn’t worked out. But as I discovered, because of Javier, it was because I was under Sean.

“What I managed to get through wasn’t that good,” I admitted. “At least not for me.”  
Sean snorted. “Don’t tell _him_ that. You mad at me?”  
“I’m upset that you’re upset. It’s hard spending time apart when we’re always in the same place.”  
“Well...don’t ya go hatin’ me for feelin’ jealous.”  
“I could never. Now, then, I need coffee for the headache that’s coming back.”

Just as we were leaving my tent, Arthur returned to camp. Only, he didn’t look very good. He looked both horribly injured and quite ill. He ended up falling off his horse and collapsing on the ground. From the sound and look of things, Colm had somehow managed to kidnap him.  
♞♞♞

As I was rounding the corner to enter the front of the saloon from the back, I overheard a couple of the Grays speaking to each other. What I was hearing wasn’t nice. Well, I knew they weren’t nice people. But how stupid did they think I was to not understand what they were talking about? I didn’t know how, but somehow they found out what was going on. It was already a stressful day because of an argument I had with Sean before work, and this only increased it tenfold.

“Make sure to grab that girl,” one of them said.  
“What girl?” the other replied.  
“The one who works here. What’s her name? The English one.”  
“Naw, there’s no way Evangeline is with ’em.”  
“We got a meeting set up with them boys soon. That redhead, some feller named Bill, and two others. Leigh says we can’t let ’em leave.” He sighed. “Where is that girl? I got a thirst.”

I quietly went into the room that sat just before the door, and then quickly climbed out of the window. I was going to have to get Maple and rush back to camp. But there was enough people around still that I was needing to be cautious. As calmly as possible, I wandered over to where Maple was hitched. And then I did what I needed to and rode her out of Rhodes like a bat flew out of hell.

In camp, I looked all over for Sean or maybe even Bill. Neither of them were around, and I noticed that even Micah and Arthur weren’t around. The only ones I were really concerned about were Sean and Arthur. Bill, as stupid as he could be, could handle himself, and Micah could get himself shot for all I cared.

“Abigail, have you seen Sean?” I asked.  
“No,” she replied. “Everythin’ alright? Ya look worried.”

Rather than answering her, I waved her off and went over to Cornelius.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.  
“Have you seen Sean? I really need to find him.”  
“I’ve not seen him for a while.”

I saw Dutch coming back up from the beach. If anyone knew where Sean was, it would be him. I ran up to him, feeling hopeful that maybe he would tell me that he was just out hunting or gone to scope out another camp, or something that didn’t require him to be in town.

“Please tell me you know where Sean is,” I begged.  
“He, Bill, and Micah are in town waitin’ for Arthur,” he told me. “Goin’ to some meeting with the Grays. Why?”  
“Shit. Shit!”  
“Evie--”  
“Dutch, if Sean dies I will never forgive you!”

I ran back over to Maple and almost struggled to get back onto her. Without much prodding, she ran as fast as she could out of camp. She must have sensed that something was wrong. I didn’t want to push her so much that she became exhausted, but it was serious. Even when she probably couldn’t continue on, she still forced herself to run. Maple skidded to a halt as I pulled her reins back. Sure enough, Sean, Bill, Micah, and Arthur were already there. I looked around and it didn’t take me long to notice one of the Grays lining up a shot from one of the balconies.

“_Sean_!” I shouted.

Just as he was looking in my direction, he was shot in one of his shoulders. What was just a peaceful town a few moments ago turned into chaos. Grays were everywhere, and so it turned into a gunfight. Maple was reluctant to go in any further. Sean wasn’t able to do much except hide while the other three tried to fight the Grays off. If my horse wasn’t going to head in, then she was going to have to wait where she was while I went in myself. I jumped down from Maple and sprinted to where Sean was.

“For fucks’ sake, what are ya doin’?” he snapped.  
“Evie, get him outta here!” Arthur shouted.  
“That,” I muttered, helping Sean to his feet.  
“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he retorted.  
“Do you want to argue or do you want to go back to camp?”

I pushed him in the direction that Maple was waiting. He was losing a lot of blood quickly just from that one gunshot; so much so that he couldn’t get up onto my horse without help. I didn’t care if I was being shot at now; I just wanted to get him back to camp so he could get some help. A bullet barely grazed the side of my dress, but still managed to draw blood. Ignoring the stinging in my side, I made sure Sean was secure on Maple and climbed up in front of him.

“Call Ennis,” I told him, gently kicking Maple’s side.  
“What?” he asked, sounding weak.  
“I said, call Ennis!”

I forced Maple to run just as quickly as when she ran out of camp. Luckily enough, all the Grays that needed to be worried about were either at Caliga Hall or in Rhodes. I couldn’t believe what was going on. First Arthur and Colm kidnapping him, and now Sean getting a nasty shoulder wound? The things the gang was getting itself into was becoming worse and worse, it seemed. Arthur had survived his wound that Colm’s men had given him but it took a good couple of weeks for him to get better. I was only hoping that Sean would be just as lucky. It was just before entering the camp that I could feel the blood from Sean’s wound seeping through my dress. The amount of blood that he was losing was concerning and I didn’t even reply to John when he asked who was entering. The first two people I saw I called out to.

“Charles! Kieran! I need your help!” I panted, quickly hopping down from Maple.

Sean was barely conscious at this point that he couldn’t even complain not to let Kieran anywhere near him. Charles and Kieran helped him down from my horse and took him to my tent. I stayed out of the tent so Reverend Swanson and Susan could help him and keep an eye on him. Eventually Dutch went in to check on him, too.

“How’d you know they were gonna get shot at?” Abigail wondered.  
“I overheard some of the Grays talking in the saloon,” I replied quietly.  
She placed a hand on my clean shoulder. “He’ll be okay. I gotta go find Jack. Don’t worry.”

I couldn’t not worry. If I had been just a few moments too late, Sean would be dead. He might still die, but he had a better chance of surviving in camp. There was no way that the Gray hadn’t had a head shot on him. I’d come and messed up that plan.

“That boy is gonna be fine,” Dutch mentioned as he came out of my tent.

I couldn’t help but feel anger when I looked at him. He was the reason Sean had been shot in the first place. He was the reason Arthur had been kidnapped. He was the reason we were all running in the first place. I was so angry about everything that I ended up hitting him in his chest repeatedly. If I could have shot him without suffering any repercussions, I would have.

“You done?” he asked, grabbing my wrists to keep me from hitting him again.  
“No,” I sobbed.  
“You just need to calm down. He’s gonna be fine.”  
“He wouldn’t have gotten shot if you hadn’t gotten involved in all of that business!”  
“Stop screamin’.”  
“Dutch, it was a matter of time before the Grays found out. When do you think those Braithwaites are going to find out?”

He let me go with a sigh. Without answering me, he went back to his own tent. Maybe he realized just how furious I was and didn’t want to bother arguing. It wasn’t like I wanted to argue, either; but when was he going to start learning to let sleeping dogs lie? I didn’t know what was going to happen after Rhodes, but I couldn’t imagine it was going to be anything better.

“You doin’ okay?” Susan asked as she came out of my tent.  
“Compared to Sean, I’m great,” I sniffled.  
“Well, just keep an eye on him.”  
“Let us know if he starts running a fever,” Reverend Swanson said as he wandered out.

I nodded and went inside. Sean must have been given some morphine from the Reverend’s stash to make the pain more tolerable; he was passed out and sleeping soundly. They had managed to stop the bleeding, too, and had patched him up a bit. But I knew that just because he looked okay, we weren’t completely out of the woods just yet. I also knew that whenever he woke up, he was probably going to be upset at me because I’d run into the middle of everything. Either that, or he was going to demand whiskey. Probably the whiskey. I sat on the stool next to the cot with a quiet sigh and held his hand. It wasn’t too much longer until Cornelius came in.

“You think he will be okay?” I wondered.  
“Hard to say,” he replied. “It looks like he lost quite a bit of blood, but try to remain hopeful. You should go get yourself cleaned up.”  
“I’m fine here.”

Cornelius sat on the other stool. I didn’t expect for him to stay with me or understand why I wanted to stay with Sean. He had bore witness to mine and Sean’s fight that morning.

“Evangeline, you really love him, don’t you?” Cornelius inquired.  
“Of course I do,” I shot back immediately. “I don’t love just anybody. The other one... I don’t know if he loves me back. For Sean, I may have done something foolish and he may be mad at me for doing it, but I couldn’t just leave him there. Arthur wanted me to get him out of there, anyway.”  
“What did you do?”  
“Just what any crazy person would do. I ran into the middle of a gunfight. But, listen, even if it was foolish, I couldn’t live with myself if the last thing that happened between Sean and I was such a bad fight.”  
“You could have gotten hurt.”  
“Don’t you think I know that?” I sighed. “Daddy, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here any longer. If these kinds of things keep happening...”

My father clearly didn’t like the idea that I was suggesting he leave. He’d become accustomed to living in a camp and hunting to earn his keep. I would have preferred him at this point to be far away from me as possible. He could go home to Arkansas and continue being an accountant, or he could continue travelling to see his clients in person more often. Maybe he could even just simply retire and move to California. Whatever he did, he would be safer on his own than with us.

“Would that put your mind at ease?” he asked.  
“Yes,” I murmured. “Maybe someday soon I can join you back home, or wherever you decide to go.”

Cornelius thought for a moment and then stood up before hugging me tightly. I was going to miss him, truly, but he needed to leave before anything could happen to him. I both didn’t want him to go and I wanted him to stay. Him continuing on was best. I knew that. He must have known that, too.

“I will write you as soon as I can,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “The letters will be sent to Saint Denis.”  
“I love you, Daddy,” I sniffled.  
“I know, darling. I love you, too. Take care of yourself, will you?”  
“You, too. Please.”

He then left. I knew that most would be relieved that he would be gone, but that was the least of my worries now. Sean was, obviously, still wounded and most likely wouldn’t be able to really do anything for at least a couple of days. It was quiet in the camp for almost thirty minutes, and then there was commotion. I immediately stormed outside to ask everyone to keep it down for Sean’s sake, but I didn’t get a word in. Abigail ran up to me, looking like she was going to cry -- and she hardly ever cried.

“Have you seen Jack?” she gasped. “I-I can’t find him nowhere.”  
“No, I haven’t,” I admitted, realizing I hadn’t seen her son for a while.  
“Dammit!”

That’s what the commotion was about and asking everyone to keep quiet was immediately swept from my mind. Ordinarily, Jack was good about answering Abigail when she called for him, and he never wandered away from camp. The furthest I ever saw him go was the edge of the lake. So now Jack was most likely missing.

“You seen Jack?” Charles asked as he walked by me.  
“N-No,” I stammered.  
“Well, don’t worry yourself over this. Worry about Sean.”

Now I had Sean to worry about and Jack. Charles telling me not to worry only made me worry more. Jack was in much trouble if he couldn’t be located. I could only imagine how horrified Abigail must have been feeling. Everyone was calling and looking for Jack and I was stuck having to stay with Sean -- that wasn’t a bad thing, but of course I wanted to help. I reluctantly went back into my tent, where Sean was already starting to wake up.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” he groaned.  
“Are you talking about the noise or your shoulder?” I asked, my voice shaky.  
“Both.”  
“Um...you were shot and I brought you back to camp. The noise is... We can’t find Jack.”  
“What d’ya mean ya can’t find Jack?”  
“He’s missing, I think.”

Sean tried to sit up, mentioning that he should be looking for Jack, too, but he could barely get up at all. He laid back down on the pillow, out of breath, thanks to the morphine and his shoulder. I placed a hand on the shoulder that wasn’t hurt with a sigh.

“You need to rest,” I told him.  
“Ain’t nothin’ has stopped me before and it ain’t gonna start now with my damn shoulder!” he snapped, attempting to sit up again.  
“Sean MacGuire, for the love of everything that is sacred, lay down and shut up!”

He looked up at me; I could tell he was still upset about the fight we had. But the angry expression he had on his face quickly faded when he did look at me. I had been doing my best not to actually cry, but it was getting harder not to. If I had to force him to stay laying down for his health, then I would.

“What are ya cryin’ for?” he wondered.  
“Because you almost died and you could _still_ die if you don’t rest and Jack is missing and I’m really worried about both of you,” I sobbed.  
“What were ya doin’ takin’ me away from all that?”  
“You weren’t supposed to leave Rhodes alive, Sean. I-I don’t even know if Arthur is okay.”

Sean stayed quiet for a good few moments. He must have realized that he should have been dead, not laying in my cot back at camp.

“Ya look like you were in a fight of your own,” he mentioned.  
“You were bleeding out on me,” I told him. “Miss Grimshaw and Reverend Swanson helped you when I brought you back.”  
“You really didn’t get hit?”

I pressed my hand against the side of my dress where I’d been essentially scraped with a bullet. It was really nothing compared to Sean’s wound and the bleeding had stopped a while ago. The only thing that needed to be patched was my dress if I could get the blood out.

“Thought ya hated me,” Sean admitted.  
“Of course I don’t hate you,” I snapped. “Just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore, stupid.”  
“So ya still love me?”  
“Yes; why is that so hard to believe?”

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently. There was silence only for a few seconds, before I heard Abigail screaming at Dutch about Jack. I went outside to see what was going on now, but what I was met with was most of the boys heading out on their horses. The Grays had planned to kill Arthur, Bill, Micah, and Sean, and so I could only assume that the Braithwaites had somehow managed to kidnap Jack. I headed back into the tent, only to find Sean trying to sit up again.

“Lay down,” I demanded.  
“I should be helpin’ find Jack,” he snapped.  
“Even if I did let you leave this tent and go do that, you wouldn’t be of any use to anybody with that shoulder of yours. Now, god dammit, lay down or I’ll ask Miss Grimshaw to knock you out myself.”

Sean groaned as he did what I asked of him. As much as people found him napping and taking breaks, I was surprised he wanted to be up and about. It was probably the morphine keeping him from feeling how much pain he really was in. If it somehow had worn off while he was trying to help get Jack back, the pain would most likely be even more unbearable.

“Can I at least have whiskey?” he asked.  
“How are you going to drink it if you can’t even sit up?” I retorted.  
“I have me ways, darlin’.”  
I let out a long sigh. “If I go grab you a bottle, you promise not to try and get up to run off?”  
“Sure.”

I begrudgingly left the tent -- _again_ \-- and went over to one of the boxes of whiskey bottles. Karen wandered up to me as I turned around.

“You doin’ alright?” she asked.  
“I really wish people would stop asking me that,” I muttered.  
“Well, you had that big fight with Sean this mornin’, almost seen him die, too. What was that fight about?”  
“I... Okay, well... Last night, Javier and I...did it while I was sober...”  
“Weren’t that a few weeks ago? In the forest?”  
I felt my face become hot with embarrassment. “W-We tried _then_, but I wasn’t comfortable so we didn’t finish. Last... Last night, we... I was on top and... The argument was because Sean thought I wasn’t comfortable enough with him to try and he thought I didn’t trust him enough to even try with him. I-I need to get this whiskey back to him...”

I headed back to Sean and plopped myself down on the stool again. After I handed him the whiskey, he just held onto the bottle. It seemed like he really didn’t have his ways to drink laying down. He didn’t try to sit up again, however. He needed rest but I could tell he wasn’t going to go back to sleep so easily.

“Do ya love him?” Sean suddenly asked.  
“Beg your pardon?” I blurted.  
“Escuela.”  
“Well, I_ like_ him, but I don’t love him.”  
“But he’s the one ya did it with sober.”

I could see how Sean would think I loved and trusted Javier more than him. But the honest truth was that I only merely liked Javier. It wasn’t a secret I was at least sweet on him; but being sweet on someone and loving someone were two completely different things. I’d thought Sean was insistent on wanting me to love him before the Blackwater job, but Javier was even moreso insistent on getting into my sheets that it became almost impossible for me to say “no” or to ignore him. I didn’t know if he was trying to “cure” me or if he was merely jealous that I “chose” Sean over him. What I did with Kieran certainly fuelled fire within him.

“It was fine,” I said sheepishly. “Not good. Just...fine.”  
“Does he know that?” Sean snorted.  
“He should. I didn’t get anywhere to being close. I don’t know -- maybe it was me and it had nothing to do with him.”  
“Only one way to find out.”  
♞♞♞

“Jack ain’t here,” Charles muttered as he sat next to me by the campfire. “Abigail’s probably gonna kill all of us if we don’t get him back.”  
“We’ll find him,” I said reassuringly. “One way or another.”  
He nodded slightly with a sigh. “How’s Sean?”  
“Resting. He, er, woke up last night and exerted himself.”

Charles looked at me and then away. I could tell he was mad about Jack being taken -- everyone was mad about it. Very quietly, though, he mentioned that the head of the Braithwaite family said Jack was on a boat to Italy or still in Saint Denis. Someone was going to have to head into Saint Denis to look for him, then, but everyone was in the camp.

“Where’s your father?” Charles wondered.  
“He left yesterday,” I replied. “I told him to.”  
“Probably for the best.”  
“You’ve been up all night, Charles. You should try and get some sleep.”  
“I’ll be fine, Evie.”

I was about to insist he go and get some rest, even just for a while, when Lenny called out about some kind of problem. I looked in the direction his voice had come from and realized he was tailing behind two men who appeared to be important. Then it dawned on me that they were Pinkertons and, while Charles and everyone else headed over to see what was going on, I rushed back to my tent. I could only assume that they were there for Dutch, but I thought that perhaps Declan had gone through with his threat to tell them about me, too. Not only was I scared that they were there for Dutch and possibly myself, but I was scared that Sean would be taken, too, since he was technically “property of the government”.

The timing seemed a bit opportunistic, though. My father was gone and now the Pinkertons were in the camp? I shook my head. No way my father would put me in danger like that as to give them the camp location. It could have been, and most likely was, because so many of the boys made such a racket around Lemoyne. Javier and John with the Braithwaite horses; Sean with the tobacco fields; he, Micah, and Bill with the gunfight in Rhodes; Dutch and Bill with being deputized. Charles, Uncle, and Bill had done something together, too. Arthur was, of course, partially to blame for all the noise, as well, considering he was with everyone. I really shouldn’t have been surprised that the Pinkertons caught up with us. It only seemed so natural after everything that happened.

What I was surprised about was the fact that the two Pinkertons just left. I didn’t hear much of the conversation to begin with, but after a threat that everyone in the camp would die they willingly walked out of the camp. If they were going to come back, we were definitely moving again.


	24. Chapter 24

I slapped my neck with a grimace. How wonderful. We'd moved into a swamp and there were mosquitoes _everywhere_. What was next, an alligator wandering in? Dutch and Arthur had immediately left the new camp once everyone arrived. For once I was in no rush to go find work; I was too busy keeping an eye on Sean. He'd been given more morphine after we all got settled in and was passed out. At least I was able to work on some of the darning while I watched over him. I wasn't prepared for the moment he woke up and decided he was fine enough to get up and walk around, and maybe even help to get Jack back. He was nowhere near being better just yet; his wound was still only a couple days old. I didn't even want him to be in the swamp -- I couldn't imagine that the mosquitoes and the dirt and the rampant humidity were good for someone who needed to rest. But my cot and the tent were better than sleeping on the old furniture inside the old plantation house or on the floor inside. Just like the men who had gone out to deal with the Braithwaites, I hadn't slept the night before, either. I didn't know how I was going to sleep. Sean needed my cot to himself and I wasn't willing to exactly sleep on old furniture, either. Well, he'd complained I hadn't "come to bed" the night before. How was I supposed to without needing to hold onto him? Ordinarily he'd sleep on his side, but like this he needed to lay on his back.

I left the tent to retrieve some more socks that needed to be darned. As was expected, Abigail was wandering around and so clearly worried sick. She couldn't concentrate on getting house chores done. I couldn't really blame her, either. That was her son that was taken. John was doing his best to stay out of her hair. If anything came up, Dutch would surely return to retrieve John. That little boy would hopefully be back in camp soon enough. There wasn't much else to do but wait and see what was going to happen. What if Jack was on a boat to Italy? How would we get him back then? I was hopeful enough that he was still in Saint Denis, and even moreso hopeful that he was safe.

“How's Sean doin’?” Susan asked.  
“Still sleeping,” I replied. “How am I supposed to know if he has a fever or if it's just this heat?”  
“It shows you've never had a fever before.” She sighed. “He's gonna complain that he's cold, if ya don't notice he's shiverin’ first.”  
“Are we ever going to stop moving? It doesn't bother me, really; it'd just be nice to settle down in one place after everything.”  
“Someday. Maybe. Can't be sure. You gonna head into the city and find work?”  
“Soon. I'd like to wait until Sean is a bit better.”  
“The boy ain't gonna die while you're off whorin' yourself out,” Micah said loudly as he walked by.  
“Mister Bell!” Susan snapped.

I didn't have a comeback for him, but of course I so badly wanted to scream at him and hit him and call him every name under the sun that could describe just how disgusting I found him. If there was anything lower than vermin, it was him. I played it off that I was merely too tired to deal with him and went back to my tent. Eventually Sean was going to get annoyed that I was constantly watching over him or someone else was going to make me do something else. Inside, he was awake again and, just like the day before, he was trying his best to sit up on his own. This time, though, I didn't argue with him that he needed to stay laying down and helped him up. I took a seat on the stool and got to work on the socks.

“Are you feeling okay?” I wondered.  
“Can't stay lyin' down so much,” he replied, agitated.  
“Give it a few more days, especially since you exerted yourself last night.”  
“I _what_?”  
I sighed. “You were very active last night.”  
“If I can do that, I can walk around, at least.”  
“No. If you’re that bored, you can read a book.”

I wanted him to get better quickly, but that wasn’t going to happen if he kept wanting to get up and roam around, even less so if he actually managed to stand up and walk around the camp. There was no way I could have known he’d hate resting so much. He probably wanted me to leave so he could do what he wanted just for a little bit.

“God didn’t bless me with the talent to read,” Sean said, smug.  
“No one just _knows_ how to read by themselves,” I retorted. “It has to be taught. You want me to teach you?”  
“Not really.”  
I set the sock I was holding down with an annoyed sigh. “If _God_ didn’t bless you with the ‘talent’ to read, then what did He supposedly bless you with?”  
“I’m funny, ain’t I?”  
“So He blessed you with humour.”  
“He must’ve blessed ya with them good looks.”

I shook my head at him, trying my best not to smile. If it had been almost anyone else, I would have shot back that Cornelius and Bonnie gave me good looks. But I digressed and kept my mouth shut on the subject. Sean knew well by now that I no longer believed in God because of what happened at the cabin, but I was going to let the sleeping dog lie. He didn’t like vanity -- even going as far as confronting Javier about his own vanity once -- but at least he was still being nice enough to me to compliment my appearance despite obviously being annoyed with my watching over him.

“Any word on Jack?” he asked.  
“Not yet,” I murmured. “Er, are you hungry? Pearson made a pot of stew.”  
“I’m stuck in here, my shoulder is fucked, and you’re gonna let me eat that? Ain’t I suffered enough?”  
“Would you rather starve?”  
“Yeah, fine, I’ll eat.”

I left to go get him a bowl of stew. On my way back, I bumped into Kieran, who looked distracted by something. I’d found out he had seen some of the Braithwaite men just before Jack went missing -- maybe he was feeling guilty about not doing anything? Well, it wasn’t as if he knew what was going to happen.

“Are you okay?” I said.  
“H-Huh?” he stammered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“You’re more distracted than usual.”  
“It ain’t nothin’, Evie; I promise.”  
“I know you got scared about O’Driscolls being around at our last camp, but I think we’re safe here.”  
He let out what sounded like a worried sigh. “I gotta go feed the horses.”

Something was definitely on his mind. I couldn’t blame him, truly. Everyone had something on their mind at the moment -- some had Jack on their mind, some had money on their mind, house chores on their mind, or whatever else there was to worry about. I knew Tilly was worried about being so far south. We just kept getting pushed and pushed -- how soon until we would be forced into the ocean? As I watched Kieran retreat to where the horses were gathered, Hosea came up next to me.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he reassured me. “Just have some trust in Dutch.”  
“Hosea--” I began, but he cut me off.  
“I know after what happened in Rhodes it’s difficult for you, but...he’ll have a plan.”  
“Sean is waiting. I’ll see you later.”

Back in the tent, I handed Sean the bowl of stew. He didn’t immediately begin eating, though; not that I could blame him. Pearson never seemed to use any spices or seasonings. Whatever went into the pot, that was all there was for flavour and somehow he managed to overcook the meat. It was better than nothing, but would it kill him to actually learn how to cook correctly? It probably would.

“Ya think we’re kinda married?” Sean asked.  
“Um...I beg your pardon?” I replied.  
“We fight like an old married couple, you’re takin’ care of me when I ain’t well, and we’re worryin’ over each other--”  
“If you see it that way, I’m not going to stop you. You’re not going to actually ask me to marry you, though, are you?”  
“Why? Would it be so bad?”  
“I’d make a terrible wife. As long as we’re here, I wouldn’t have to cook for you, at least, but if something were to happen and we had to leave I couldn’t cook for you even if I wanted to.”  
“Marston and Abigail are married, just not in the eyes of God.”  
“Well, they have a son who may or may not be in trouble.”

I wasn’t ready for marriage, whether it be in the eyes of something I no longer believed in or not. With everything that happened, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be ready for it. I loved Sean, but I didn’t want to get married. Did that say something about me? Did that mean I didn’t love him _enough_? He was nice, most of the time, and he never dared to put his hands on me in a violent way. Of course, lately, we were at each other’s throats and he was rather annoyed with me. It seemed to me that I was trying to convince myself that Sean didn’t love me.

“Would you..._want_ to marry me?” I mumbled. “Actually?”  
“Sure,” he said. “You don’t wanna--”  
“I don’t know what I want.”  
“The ring matters, don’t it?”  
“It shouldn’t. The thing that matters is the person who’s asking. You eat your food; I need to...not be here.”

I wandered out to where the horses were gathered. Kieran was gone by now and so I was by myself for a good while. I just leaned against Maple until Charles wandered up to me.

“You doin’ okay?” he wondered.  
“I’m confused about some things,” I admitted. “Nothing to worry about.”  
“You thinking about your father?”  
“Not really. He should be fine. Charles, I was wondering if... N-Never mind.”  
“You sure?”  
I sighed, frustrated. “No, I’m not sure.”  
“Evie--”  
“I’m sorry; I-I’m not being sensible these days.”  
***

Jack was found unharmed in Saint Denis. Dutch, John, and Arthur were able to bring him back. I didn’t know what it took for them to get him, but at least he was back where he was meant to be. Well, he wasn’t meant to be living amongst a bunch of criminals, but that was beside the point. Abigail cried for having her son back and the camp took it upon itself to have a party. Nothing was going to keep Sean from it, either, and I wasn’t in the right mind to stop him. I helped him to his feet and he went off to drink and be merry. I, however, stayed off to the side so as not to be in the way, along with Strauss, Kieran, and Charles. But even then, I stayed away from them, too.

“You ain’t gonna join in?” Dutch asked.  
“No, not this time,” I said.  
“Why do ya sound depressed?”  
“I’m tired, Dutch.”  
“Well, I got a plan. We’re gonna go to Tahiti.”

I stared at him. Tahiti? Why Tahiti? I only knew what and where Tahiti was because of the globe Cornelius had in his study back home. They spoke French there, too, so how would anyone in our camp talk to anyone? I barely was passable in French. His plan was for us to go to Tahiti, but then what? I wasn’t going to question him since Hosea told me I needed to trust him. If Hosea trusted Dutch, then I had to as well. But getting to Tahiti required a boat, and so what if that boat got into an accident or if it began to sink? Neither John nor myself knew how to swim. Whatever Dutch’s full plan was, I hoped it was actually good.

“Don’t waste your time talking to me,” I said. “Go enjoy the party. Good work getting Jack back.”

I really was tired. I hadn’t slept since Sean got hurt and I was getting sick of moving around so much. Sooner or later I was going to scream at someone again and there was no reason for it to come to that. But I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t relax. I didn’t know what was fully wrong with me, and then Sean had mentioned marriage and made my thoughts even worse. With a quiet sigh, I sat on the step that led to the patio of the house and leaned against the pillar.

I stayed where I was for hours. I didn’t talk to anyone else and no one tried to talk to me, either. They probably realized I just wanted to be left alone. In the early hours of the morning, though, I saw Kieran heading for the horses. From what I understood, the horses didn’t have to be fed or anything just yet. I quickly wandered over to where he was.

“Are you okay?” I asked.  
“I was just gonna go, er, pick some burdock root. For-For the horses, I mean,” he stammered.  
“Can I come?”

Kieran was definitely nervous about something. He didn’t look okay and I really thought he was acting a bit unusual.

“No!” he exclaimed, but then he looked ashamed of himself. “I-I mean, I...”  
“Kieran,” I said, stepping closer to him, “what’s going on? You’re more nervous than usual.”  
“I dunno... Er, um, I don’t want you to get hurt or nothin’.”  
“Why would I get hurt if we’re looking for burdock root?”

Kieran relented and agreed for me to come. Even then, he still remained nervous. Maybe he was still scared that O’Driscolls were around. If that was the case, wasn’t it better than we leave together? If he left on his own and they somehow found him, no one would notice he was missing. And if they _did_ notice he was missing, how long would it take until they did realize he wasn’t in camp? I didn’t believe his burdock root excuse, not for a moment. Why would he go out so early in the morning when everyone was sleeping? It was very suspect, but I could understand why he didn’t want to tell me what was really wrong. He didn’t feel like he belonged with us, just like how I still didn’t completely feel like I belonged with everyone.

“There’s a good couple of patches up here,” he said, pointing in the direction he was referring to.  
“Sure,” I mumbled.

We hopped off our horses and began collecting the burdock root. Nothing was said between us, but I did notice that Kieran kept looking around. He was increasingly becoming more and more nervous. I knew what was wrong. But if I just came out and said it, he wouldn’t admit it. If the O’Driscolls were around, if _Colm_ was around, they managed to get inside Kieran’s head. The possibility of them somehow telling him he really didn’t belong with us was there. I didn’t think he realized what he was getting himself into, and there I was with him with the very huge possibility that I’d come in contact with them myself.

“Kieran,” I suddenly said.  
“Uh-huh?” he replied.  
“You know if something is wrong you can tell me, right? I wouldn’t tell Dutch or Hosea or Arthur unless it was really bad.”  
“Ain’t nothin’ is wrong, Evie.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I-I’m fine.”  
“You’re not a bad person, Kieran; you realize that, don’t you?”  
“I’m gonna go to the patch over there.”

I sighed as he walked away from me. He disappeared behind some bushes and a few trees. Kieran didn’t believe me when I said the things I did. Everyone was aware that the O’Driscolls could be around, so there was no reason for me to tell Dutch that they were. But I would have to tell Dutch if Kieran knew that the O’Driscolls were planning something. I was scared for Kieran. They were so good at torturing people that they didn’t even need to have him captive. Just as I was about to call out to him, I heard him groan. The way it came out did not sound good. I peeked around a tree and realized Kieran had been knocked out by an O’Driscoll and was being hogtied. There were a few of the O’Driscolls -- four for one person? Was that just in case he hadn’t been alone?

Kieran had been worried about me coming because of what happened at the cabin and what if I had ended up getting hurt because of him. Even when he was being tortured somehow, he was still in the right mind to not want to get anyone else hurt. But I was even more scared for him now. I quickly hopped back up onto Maple and grabbed onto Branwen’s reins. People would start waking up soon in camp and so I raced back as quickly as I could. No one was keeping watch yet; I was able to get in quickly. Karen was just on her way to keep watch when she saw me.

“Mornin’, Evie,” she said. “Ain’t that Kieran’s horse? You okay?”  
“Dutch!” I shouted, completely ignoring her and running into camp. “Dutch!”  
Dutch came out of the house with Hosea trailing behind him. “What? Ain’t it a bit early to be--”  
“They have Kieran.”  
“Who has him?”  
“The O’Driscolls, Dutch; who else?”  
“You ain’t slept in a few days; are you sure?”  
“Yes, I’m sure! We were picking burdock root for the horses and he was being hogtied the last time I saw him. We have to go get him!”

Dutch sighed, taking a long puff of his cigar. I didn’t know what he was thinking about -- it wasn’t time to be contemplating whether to go get someone or not. Did he think Kieran wasn’t worth it or something? It wasn’t as if he really went back to them on his own. He wasn’t stupid; he was just gentle.

“Hosea?” I asked.  
“We should send someone to get the boy, Dutch,” Hosea said.  
“Were you followed?” Dutch asked.  
“No, I wasn’t followed,” I snapped. “Kieran--”  
“I’ll come,” Mary Beth announced.

The three of us looked over at her like she had lost her mind. She liked Kieran and he liked her, too, but there was no way she would be allowed to go, right? Dutch barely liked the idea of _me_ going into that pit. I looked at Dutch again nervously.

“Go get someone else,” he told me. “Mary Beth, you stay here.”  
“I want to go,” Mary Beth pressed as I walked away.  
“Whoever’s goin’ ain’t gonna let you go, either.”

I found Charles smoking near one of the buildings that was shut down. He didn’t like to be bothered in the mornings, but I was just doing what I was told and it was important.

“Morning, Evie,” he said when he realized I was wandering up to him.  
“Good morning,” I huffed. “Kieran was taken by the O’Driscolls.”  
“You need me to track them? All you need to do is ask.” He pat my shoulder as he began walking. “Let’s go.”

Where the horses were standing around, Mary Beth was already up on one of them despite Dutch telling her “no”. Charles wasn’t very impressed with her, either, and I was worried her presence would do more harm than good. I knew she merely wanted to go to make sure that Kieran would make it back to camp okay rather than wanting to sit or pace back and forth and not know if anyone was coming back.

“Why does Evie get to go?” Mary Beth asked.  
“She knows where he was last and I know what she can do in a fight,” Charles replied. “I dunno about you, though.”  
“I’m coming.”  
“Fine. You can keep watch.”

I led them both to where Kieran and I had been picking the burdock root. Charles hopped off Taima and inspected the ground for a moment. He got back onto his horse and we followed him closely. We were going slower so Charles could keep an eye on the horse tracks, so the O’Driscolls were incredibly far ahead of us, wherever they went back to, even though I had wasted no time running back to camp. The longer we took to get to them, the more likely Kieran was going to end up in a worse situation than I had been in.

“That’s Colm’s horse,” I mumbled when we arrived to where they were set up.

Charles took out his binoculars to survey the camp. Just from what I could see, there were many O’Driscolls around. Far more than when we had gone to rescue Cornelius. It was worrisome and I was wondering just how badly I had messed up. I should have asked one more person to come with us who wasn’t Mary Beth. I looked at Charles as he lowered the binoculars.

“There’s too many for just me and you, Evie,” he admitted. “If we’re gonna get that Kieran outta there, we’re gonna have to be quiet.”  
“You mean sneak in there?” I asked.  
“Yes. Mary Beth, you keep watch.”  
“How do you know where Kieran is?” Mary Beth wondered.  
“We don’t. Evie, leave your guns here. If we gotta kill anyone, we gotta do it silently.”

I nodded and got down from Maple. I pat her side reassuringly as a promise that I would come back to her. The place was more risky than the place Cornelius had been taken to, and Colm was around. I followed Charles around the tree line, and we were able to sneak past a few of the guards. The camp didn’t have as many buildings as the last camp; it only had two. Still, I was so scared and so nervous. I only hoped that Kieran was okay. I knew he wasn’t going to be completely unharmed, but as long as he was alive... That was all I could hope for.

We came to the first building, where I peeked through the window. There was a table of O’Driscolls playing poker, but that was all I could see from where I was. Charles snuck around to the other side to look through a different window. It wasn’t long until he came back and shook his head. So, in the best case, Kieran had to be in the other building. Just as we were about to sneak over to the next building, the door to the cabin we were by opened. Luckily enough, the back of the door faced us, but as a precaution Charles still pulled me into the bushes and shielded me with his body. I stayed under him for a few moments until he backed off to see if the coast was clear. I sat on the back of my knees, waiting.

“Sorry,” Charles whispered.  
“For what?” I mumbled.  
He looked at me. “_That_.”

He was referring to my being under him? I hadn’t thought about it. It was just Charles -- he wasn’t going to hurt me. But it did take me a few seconds to realize why he was actually saying sorry to me. He understood that I panicked anytime I was under someone, but I was confused. I hadn’t panicked with him. Although, it was a different kind of situation and he wasn’t trying anything. Still, it was going to be something I had to think about.

“Let’s go,” Charles said quietly.

I followed closely behind him until we came to the second cabin. Charles looked through the window and sighed.

“Kieran ain’t lookin’ so good,” he admitted. “Looks pretty beat up.”  
“They’re--” I began.  
“Ssh.”

Charles ducked back down. I kept quiet as he had told me to do; he’d told me to be quiet because there were people talking. I recognized one of the voices as Colm. It didn’t take long for me to feel an anger building up inside of me. Not just because of what happened at the cabin those months ago, but for also taking Cornelius and Kieran, and hurting Arthur. Charles shook his head at me as if he knew what I was thinking. If I just went busting into the cabin, the whole camp would be alerted and it would be nearly impossible to get Kieran out safely. None of the voices that were talking were Kieran, though; they’d obviously beaten him up so much that he’d passed out again.

“Charles, they’re going to kill him,” I breathed.  
“I know,” Charles whispered back. “There ain’t anything we can do right now. Just give it a minute.”

Colm and whomever he was with exited the cabin, and so we were able to hear them speaking more clearly.

“We’re gonna give it a couple of days,” Colm said. “See if anyone comes lookin’ for him. We’ll get the location of their camp outta him and then...”

He made a sound that people used to indicate they were going to behead someone. Charles held me back so I wouldn’t go charging at Colm and ruin everything. Once we were sure they were gone, we quietly went inside the cabin. Charles hadn’t been lying; Kieran looked _horrible_. He was bloody and bruised. I knew that gangs weren’t very forgiving to disloyalty, and he’d gone and willingly stayed with us. I had to make sure he was even still breathing despite Colm mentioning that they weren’t going to kill him just yet. Charles untied him and lifted him up onto his shoulder.

Getting out of the camp was a bit easier than when we had been sneaking through it. We were able to leave the cabin and head into the forest to hide amongst the trees. Still, we had to be quiet so we wouldn’t alert anyone if anyone was around. We snuck past the guards at the front of the camp again and snuck around to where Mary Beth was waiting.

“Kieran!” she gasped.  
“He’s gonna be fine,” Charles told her, putting Kieran on his stomach on Mary Beth’s horse. “We gotta go before they--”  
“Hey, Colm!” one of the O’Driscolls shouted. “_Colm_! Kieran’s gone!”  
“You get Kieran back to Shady Belle; me and Evie’ll be back later. Go!”

Mary Beth nodded and rode her horse away, while Charles and I went in the complete opposite direction from her. We rode until Charles was sure no one was following us. Hopefully Mary Beth made it back to Shady Belle without being followed, too. We were nearly inside Saint Denis’ city limits by the time we actually stopped riding.

“You okay?” Charles asked.  
“I’m not the one who was beat up this time,” I replied.  
“Evie...”  
“I’ll be okay.” I swallowed hard. “While I’m here, I’m going to see if there’s anything at the post office. Will you come with me?”  
“Yes.”

The post office wasn’t too far in Saint Denis and it wasn’t busy, either. It was my first time actually being inside a giant city, full of industrial buildings and businesses. It was rather daunting, but I liked how it looked. It seemed like a nice enough place. Charles stood with me while I collected mail for myself. There was already something for me from Cornelius and something for me from an unknown sender. Even though Dutch had told me to have things sent with a fake name that everyone in the camp used, I refused to do so. I did use Tessa Locke when I went to send things or receive things, though.

Charles and I went to a quieter, less populated area so I could look at what was sent to me. Cornelius’ letter, that was more like a small parcel, felt heavy and it was thick. There was a letter inside on its own, that was full of apologies and how much he loved me and if I really wanted to be with someone like Sean or whomever I liked he wouldn’t try to stop me anymore. He was going to try and settle back down at home in Arkansas. My father wanted to make sure I was well provided for, hoping I could make good use of the thicker envelope he’d sent within the initial one. He even said to make sure I didn’t share it with the camp.

I opened it and nearly dropped it. It was practically bursting with cash. I couldn’t tell just how much it was, but it was definitely a lot. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it, though. Cornelius told me not to share it, but the rules were we had to contribute a portion of what we had. I looked at Charles nervously and tried handing it to him.

“No,” he said. “You need to keep it. All of it.”  
“But--”  
“But nothing, Evie. Keep it hidden and don’t tell anyone. I ain’t gonna say anything to anybody. That money is for you and no one else.”  
“That’s... If I keep this a secret from Dutch--”  
“It ain’t about Dutch. It’s about you. You’re always sayin’ if things get too bad, you’ll leave. You ain’t gonna be able to do that without money. So hold onto this money, keep it safe, so if and when the time comes you gotta go, you won’t be helpless.”

I nodded slowly and put the envelope into Maple’s saddlebag. Surely it couldn’t be too safe there, but for the time being it should have been okay. Where else was I going to store it, otherwise? The envelope from the unknown sender was from Bonnie. She willingly told me she was hiding from Colm, but in plain sight. The last she had heard about me was that I’d been heading south, so she figured Saint Denis was a good place to send her letter. I was unimpressed with her reaching out to me, but even moreso when I discovered she wanted my help. Bonnie didn’t mention anything about the cabin or what she and those men did to me; not even what Colm did to me. The help she wanted was to try and get Colm from looking for her and finding her. Charles burned the letter for me without my needing to ask him.

“Should we head back to camp and see how everything is?” I asked.


	25. Chapter 25

“Me shoulder is fine; stop botherin’ me about it!” Sean snapped at me.  
“Miss Grimshaw said you aren’t supposed to be up, either,” I mumbled back.  
“It ain’t like I’m out shootin’ people who need shootin’.”  
“Sean--”  
“Leave it alone.”  
“If you don’t want me caring about you, find another tent to sleep in.”

I went and sat with Mary Beth; she was going to teach me how to do some crochet. I’d watched her and the other ladies do it from time to time and it seemed interesting enough. I was just becoming so bored of doing laundry and darning socks that I wanted to do something else. Since Bonnie knew I was in the south, too, I didn’t think getting a job in Saint Denis was the wisest choice, and Mary Beth agreed to teach me to crochet because I helped get Kieran back.

“You and Sean doin’ okay?” she wondered.  
“People think _I’m_ the stubborn one,” I said. “How’s Kieran?”  
“Oh, he’s doin’ just fine. Said he was a bit sore the last I checked on him, but he’s gonna pull through. Thanks again, Evie.”  
“Don’t mention it.”

She began showing me slowly how to make a basic doily. I had no idea what I was going to do with a doily in the middle of nowhere, but I was sure I could make some kind of use for it. I’d still not slept in days, of course. The O’Driscolls had a general idea of where our camp was, Bonnie knew I was in the south, and Sean still needed to be on bed rest but he refused to be anymore. I was worried about enough things, and he was getting mad at me for trying to make him relax so he could get better quicker. He was the one who said we were kind of married, but I didn’t think he understood “in sickness and in health”. Well, even if he wasn’t coughing up blood or unable to eat, being bedridden because he was shot in the shoulder and needed morphine to get through the pain was a type of sick. I guessed he thought because I let him join Jack’s welcome back party he figured I’d be fine with him up and walking and drinking all the time.

“Afternoon, Evie,” Charles said as he walked past.  
“Good afternoon,” I replied.

He continued to walk toward the building that was boarded up to smoke. As I continued working on the doily, Mary Beth looked in the direction he had walked in. After a moment or two, she looked at me. I thought that perhaps she was just looking at how well I was concentrating on the crochet, but that wasn’t the case. It took me a minute to realize that she was even looking at me, and when I did realize it I looked back at her, confused.

“What are you looking at me for?” I asked.  
“That man loves you,” she told me.  
“Charles? No. No, there is no way.”  
“What makes you so sure?”  
“He would have told me by now, wouldn’t he?”  
“Do you really believe that?”

I didn’t know what I believed. Sean thought I was smothering him, Javier was barely speaking to me, and those were the two who claimed to love me. I’d stopped believing the ladies when they told me Charles was sweet on me, too, and now that Mary Beth was telling me he _loved me_? Was that another disaster waiting to happen if I asked him if he did and it turned out I was wrong? I looked back down at the doily and continued working on it.

“He said hello to you, but not to me,” Mary Beth mentioned. “Didn’t say it to Karen, either.”  
“Huh?” Karen slurred, grasping her bottle of whiskey. “What about me?”  
“Nothin’. Never mind.”

It wasn’t long until Sean came over to talk to me. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, but if he needed to say something I’d let him say it. He could yell at me for being annoying for all I cared. Sean was the one to chase me and now he didn’t want my attention anymore when he wasn’t well? I didn’t know what to feel like I wasted time on more, indulging him or taking care of him. We’d found a way around sex, but it seemed to have only made things worse. It must have been because it took my sleeping with Javier to learn what to do.

“I’ll, er, go over there,” Mary Beth mumbled, getting up and walking away.  
“I’m sorry for gettin’ angry,” Sean said. “It ain’t fair that I do when you’re only tryin’ to take care of me.”  
“You won’t get better if you don’t rest,” I muttered.  
“I’m fine.”  
I let out a loud, annoyed sigh and slammed the doily into my lap. “Sean, I’m tired of our fights and our back and forth. I don’t expect for you to say ‘thank you’, but I do expect for you to understand that I just want you to get better. I can’t handle how often we’ve argued and screamed at each other, so I really think it’s just best that we stop whatever it is we’re doing. Help yourself to my tent and I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”

I got up to go sit elsewhere, but Sean tried his best to get me to stay and talk to him. He grabbed my hand gently to keep me from walking away. He was going to try and tell me how much he loved me, how sorry he was for hurting me. How many times did he have to do that until I learned my lesson that it was just going to be continuous? Sean said what I knew what he was going to say and I pulled out of his grasp, and looked at him again.

“Do ya regret savin’ me now?” he wondered.  
“No,” I quickly snapped. “Are you serious? Don’t you ever think that. I just can’t continue to do this anymore.”  
“You gonna run off to Javier again?”  
I sighed. “I don’t love him; and I _do_ love you, but this-this constant fighting is tiresome and I need to walk away from us.”  
“Evie--”  
“Leave me alone, Sean. I mean it.”  
“But--”  
“_I said I’m done_!”

I turned on my heel and went to sit inside the house. I didn’t like yelling at Sean the way I had, but his insistence to stay with me when I needed to walk away was too much. His being insistent, because I loved him, felt so much worse than Javier’s insistence. While I sat on the couch inside the house, I continued to work on the doily. I hadn’t realized just how exhausted I was until I actually now had some peace and quiet. How was I able to stay awake for so long? By now, I’d not slept in a week.

“What’re ya doin’ there, Evie?” Dutch asked as he walked past the doorway.  
“Mary Beth taught me how to crochet doilies,” I replied quietly, looking up.  
“You still ain’t sleepin’?”  
“There’s a lot on my mind, Dutch.” I swallowed hard and took the crochet needles out of the doily. “So you’re going to a party tonight?”  
“At the mayor’s house.”

I still couldn’t believe that he’d somehow made friends with the man who had taken Jack. Well, realistically, the Braithwaites had taken Jack and then handed him off to this man. But still, how had he managed it? Why would someone like Angelo Bronte want to make friends with someone like Dutch? I didn’t like what Dutch was getting himself into -- _again_ \-- but I wasn’t going to make my concern known this time.

“Well, I hope you enjoy yourself,” I said.  
“You went to parties like this?” Dutch replied. “Back when you lived with your father.”  
“Sometimes. I enjoyed chatting with my friends. The potential suitors? Not so much.”  
“Instead of takin’ Bill, we could take you instead.”  
“As much as I would just love to hear about the latest fashion trends, I’m going to have to pass.”  
“Do I hear sarcasm, Miss Locke?”  
“_Never_, Mister van der Linde.”  
♞♞♞

It was the next day and I was just now beginning to feel myself drifting off. I needed to get these socks darned and, besides, it was the middle of the day. If Miss Grimshaw caught me sleeping, I’d get an earful for sure. I kept pinching myself to keep myself awake. Of course, because I’d gone so long without sleep, the pinching wasn’t working. I’d seen what appeared to be a lady dressed in white in the swamps the night before and so I knew I had began to at least hallucinate. I should have just asked someone to hit me over the head during the week I hadn’t slept. I’d wake up with a headache, but at least I’d have slept.

My sleepiness wasn’t going to last for much longer, however. I was sitting inside the house when I heard one of the other ladies scream outside. It wasn’t an angry scream, but rather a horrified scream. I thought that perhaps someone had gotten badly hurt while out hunting and decided to head out to see if I could be of any help. That wasn’t the case. Somehow, it felt like time slowed down, yet my heart pounded in my chest. It was Mary Beth who had screamed.

What she had screamed at was Maple riding into camp with Cornelius on her back. I thought he had been back in Arkansas and I thought my horse had been in camp since Charles and I returned from getting Kieran back. She must have been lured out somehow, and now she was back with blood dripping off of the saddle. Cornelius had been eviscerated, had his throat slit, and had been shot in the head. Seeing him the way he was woke me up. I thought that maybe I _had_ fallen asleep, somehow, and what I was looking at was a horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t. We took Kieran back and Colm decided that Cornelius was the best target to tell us that we’d done the wrong thing.

“Daddy!” I screamed, beginning to run over to where Maple was.

I stopped when I realized what was happening -- we were being bushwhacked. Arthur and Dutch stayed on the balcony of the house to try and fend off O’Driscolls that had been hiding in the forest and were only just now coming out. There were so many of them that eventually the women and children, and Strauss and Trelawny and, because he was still injured, Sean were told to hide out in the house. Maple, the strong horse that she was and not being afraid of anything, stayed where she was. I had to yell at her to hide and she ran off, leaving my father behind.

I didn’t want to leave Cornelius alone, yet Arthur was continuously screaming at me to get inside. I didn’t listen to him, though. All the anger that I had pent up -- from the cabin, from Bonnie, from Sean and Javier, from Declan and all the constant danger Dutch seemed to put us through -- decided that it was a good time to come out of me. I took Lenny’s knife from him as he ran past me and ran at an O’Driscoll, jumped on him, and stabbed him in the throat. With the knife still lodged in his throat, I grabbed his gun and shot any O’Driscolls I could immediately see.

Eventually, Dutch saw we were getting overwhelmed with O’Driscolls and shouted for everyone to pull back into the house. Charles had to grab me off of the O’Driscoll I’d first killed and pull me into the house. Despite my screaming and crying, he didn’t let me go. I understood why he had to do it, but I felt the need to be outside, not inside. The men held the house as best they could, but the O’Driscolls were everywhere. I looked around for Sadie to see how she was doing being around them, and I couldn’t find her. Soon enough, I heard her screaming from behind the house. Arthur went to get her to possibly bring her into the house. If she was in the same mind as I was, she wasn’t going to go into the house.

“Evie!” Mary Beth exclaimed as I forced a window open.

I wasn’t going to stay in the house, either. Sadie wasn’t going to be held back and neither would I, not after what they had done to my father, not after what Colm had done to my baby. Even if I was getting yelled at to get back into the house, even if I’d get yelled at later on, even if I’d get killed during this bushwhack, I wasn’t going to hide. I was more angry than I was scared. There wasn’t any silence between gunshots and shouts from any of us. Sadie was screaming, I was crying, Arthur was yelling... I was sure if I could hear Susan, she’d be cursing me out.

Both Sadie and I were covered in blood from the O’Driscolls we’d killed; the first one I had killed, blood had spewed out of his neck, and I suspected she had done the same thing. We were the only ladies fighting amongst the men in the camp. It felt liberating, but for all the wrong reasons. It shouldn’t have happened the way it was happening. Cornelius should have still been alive and well and in Arkansas. We should have been safely sending letters back and forth. I should have been making plans to return home with him. Ultimately, I knew whose fault it was that Cornelius was dead.

The O’Driscolls became overwhelmed themselves and began running off when more and more of them were dropping like flies. I was furious that they had the nerve to run away after they had done what they did. I gripped the gun I’d stolen from the first one, tempted to chase after them and finish them on my own. But I couldn’t do that. I holstered the gun and the knife and ran over to my father’s body. Without a thought, I got on the ground and hugged him, and wailed. Why did things have to turn out this way? Why hadn’t I just left with him? Why did I have to be so stubborn and feel the need to care for Sean?

“Ya can’t save everyone, princess,” Micah said.  
I looked up at him. “What?” I asked.  
“I said, _you.can’t.save.everyone_.”  
“You--”  
“He weren’t even the good person you made him out to be!”  
“Micah, shut the hell up,” Arthur snapped as he helped me to my feet.  
“I only speak the truth.”  
I grabbed the gun out of my holster and pointed it at Micah. “He was still my father and he was a better man than you could ever dream to be!”  
“Ooh, whatchu gonna do, princess? Shoot me?”  
“Evie, put it down,” Dutch demanded.  
“He deserves it,” Arthur grumbled.  
“_Arthur_.”

Charles placed a hand over mine and pressed down so I lowered my arm.

“Micah ain’t worth it,” he said. “At least, not now.”

I decided that he was right. Micah would get his, someday. I holstered the gun again and instead punched Micah square in the face. Just like the last time I’d punched him, I felt his nose crack beneath my fist. Breaking it was not as satisfying as killing him would have been, but it would suffice. I sniffled and knelt down to search my father for anything important. There was a train ticket to Arkansas that had been scheduled to leave two days prior. It took everything in me not to scream again in frustration and anger. The ticket meant that Colm had been holding onto Cornelius for a few days. I took his favoured pocket watch, a photo, and his rings before standing and whistling for Maple.

Everyone who had been hiding in the house were now coming back out. There were dead O’Driscolls everywhere -- I just wished there had been more. Maple trotted over to me and bowed her head so I could press my forehead against it. She was the only important thing left in my life that was connected to Cornelius. I was just glad she hadn’t been physically harmed, but I didn’t know how she felt regarding possibly seeing my father be murdered and forced to ride him back into camp. She must have been lured out with the promise of treats and my father had to have been the one coerced to do the luring.

“Miss Grimshaw, help Miss Locke get cleaned up,” Dutch said.  
“Of course,” Susan replied, leading me away from Cornelius’ body.

I looked back at my father’s body; Dutch and Hosea were talking about burying him, but I didn’t want them to take him just yet. I didn’t even want to get cleaned up yet. I pulled out of Susan’s grip and ran back over to Cornelius, and fell back to the ground to hug him. He hadn’t deserved this; he hadn’t deserved _any_ of this.


	26. Chapter 26

_ **Shady Belle/3rd Person POV** _

“Evie?” Charles said, standing outside of Evie’s tent. “I know you ain’t up to it, but you wanna go hunting?”

There was no answer from inside. He had seen her go inside the night before and now it was early evening of the next day; he hadn’t seen her come out. Thinking that maybe she was in the house, he checked inside. She wasn’t there, either. Charles then went back to her tent and looked inside; her things were still scattered about. She couldn’t have been gone; she’d never leave her crossbow behind. With a sigh, he wandered over to where Sean was.

“You seen Evie?” he asked.  
“No,” Sean replied. “Ain’t seen her since yesterday.”  
“No one’s checked on her?”

Sean shrugged.

“Don’t look too concerned,” Charles muttered.  
“Hey. Don’t you be tellin’ me what to be. Course I’m worried, but if she don’t wanna be bothered leave her alone.”

Charles walked away from him to ask the ladies if they’d seen Evie. If anyone really knew where she was, it had to be one of them. There was no way she could have snuck out of Shady Belle so easily, not after what happened with the O’Driscolls bushwhacking them. Mary Beth looked up from her crochet at Charles.

“How you gettin’ on?” she asked.  
“Lookin’ for Evie,” he said.  
“We ain’t seen her all day,” Karen chimed in. “She ain’t in her tent?”  
“First place I looked.”  
“Miss Grimshaw,” Tilly said, “who was on guard duty last night?”  
“Mister Williamson, I think,” Susan replied. “Best ask him, see if that girl left.”  
“Can’t imagine she’d wanna stay here after what happened,” Abigail murmured.

Charles walked around the camp, looking for Bill, who clearly didn’t have a good track record of telling anyone if someone was coming or going, especially Evie. He was found sitting at the campfire, enjoying what was probably his fifteenth whiskey of the day. At least he wasn’t drunk out of his mind yet and should have managed to form a proper sentence.

“You see Evie last night?” Charles inquired.  
“Well, sure, I did,” Bill admitted. “Rode out on her horse prob’ly a little after midnight. Didn’t say nothin’; just left.”

Charles knew Evie must have wanted to be alone, but the fact of the matter was that she shouldn’t have been alone. After seeing her father the way she had, who knew what she was planning on doing? He figured that she couldn’t be so stupid as to try and find where Colm was, but the death of someone close to anyone was good enough to justify idiot actions. As long as Charles was able to track Maple to wherever she was ridden to, he would find Evie sooner or later. She had an almost seventeen hour head start.

“Where you off to, Charles?” Sadie asked.  
“To find Evie,” he said bluntly, mounting Taima. “No one else is gonna do it.”  
“You’re right, and we all know why _you’re_ the one who’s doin’ it. I don’t see Sean or Javier goin’ despite them sayin’ how much they love her.”  
He ignored her comment. “Might be gone for a day or two, dependin’ where she went.”  
“Go get that girl and bring her home safely, okay?”

Charles left Shady Belle, searching the ground for Maple’s hoof tracks. Now, Charles didn’t think that Evie would ever consider the camp to be her home ever again. The gang would have to move again in order for her to have a “home” again. Then again, she never referred to any camp as “home” -- just “camp”. Evie still thought of Arkansas as her home. Charles had to wonder if she made the impulsive decision to return to Arkansas until he picked up Maple’s tracks. They had gone in the direction of Saint Denis. Maybe she had gone toward Saint Denis and kept riding toward Van Horn or Annesberg. Even when he followed the tracks all the way to the city, he thought that perhaps she had rode right through it and continued on.

Still, just in case, he decided to slowly ride Taima through the streets of the city, to see if he could spot her on the sidewalk or in a crowd or sitting on a bench. He asked a few people as he passed them if they had seen her, just to be thorough. Saint Denis was a place she would easily fit into, so he had to be more specific than explaining that she was a rich white woman. Either no one had seen her or they didn’t speak English, or very much English. Eventually, he began looking in hotels and saloons, and then shops. By the time he got done checking, it was almost eight in the evening. There was a nicer saloon he hadn’t checked yet since he figured she would want to stay away from any man who could possibly remind her of Cornelius.

Charles wasn’t sure what kind of condition Evie would be in if and when he found her. She was sober, but would that hold after Cornelius died? Upon approaching the outside of the saloon, he saw Maple hitched up; she’d been cleaned of the blood that had been on her. But just because she was hitched up outside, it didn’t mean Evie was inside. He fed her a few carrots before heading in. He stuck out like a sore thumb walking through such a nice looking saloon. Still, it didn’t deter him from walking up to the bar and waving down the bartender. He wanted to find her as quickly as possible.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.  
“You seen a lady come in here?” Charles replied. “Hair up in a bun, might’ve either been wearin’ a dark purple dress or a dark blue shirt and black pants? Freckles on her face?”  
“If she’s staying here, we would’ve had put her in the ledger for lodgings. You a, er, friend of hers?”

Charles really didn’t have any patience to be questioned, but he figured he had to go through it in order to get to Evie. It was quicker to do it than to dance around it.

“Sure,” he sighed.  
“You got a name for this lady?” the bartender wondered.  
“It’s either Tessa Locke or Evangeline Locke.”  
The bartender looked at the ledger and shook his head. “Nope.”

Charles was just about to turn around and leave when he thought of something. He had overheard Abigail and Evie talking about baby names once back in Blackwater before the cabin, and with Cornelius dying he had an inkling of what she could have used as a fake name. It was worth a shot.

“Alice,” he said. “Try Alice Cornelius.”  
“Oh, _her_?” the bartender said with a grimace. “Weird name... Look, buddy, I think you should turn around. She’s been drinking since she got here and she didn’t even look good when she came in.”  
“Just tell me what room she’s in.”  
“Alright, suit yourself. Room three.”

_ **Evie POV** _

I was so tired, but I didn’t want to sleep. I just wanted to keep drinking. There was no way I could fall asleep; not after seeing my father that way. Cornelius hadn’t deserved to die that way -- whichever way he did. No one was able to tell, but Micah, being the less than vermin man he was, said loudly that he was probably eviscerated, had his throat slashed, and then shot in the head. He could have died from either of those things; if he hadn’t died from the evisceration, he’d died from the slash, and if not from that then the gunshot. Either one was a horrifying way to die and Colm only felt the need to prolong it how he could.

I began crying for what must have been the twentieth time that day and took a long sip from the bottle of whiskey I had. I’d not been sober all day, and I didn’t want to be. There was no reason to be. I didn’t want to be with my sober thoughts; the only thing that was really on my mind while drunk this time around was wanting to drink more and not stop. Of course, my sober thoughts managed to enter my head if I thought of anything else but alcohol.

There was a sudden knock on the door that caused me to jump. I wasn’t expecting anybody, but maybe one of the employees of the saloon thought they needed to check on me because of how much liquor I had been ordering? No, that couldn’t have been possible. Why should have anyone cared about me? Especially someone who didn’t even know me? I thought that, for a moment, an O’Driscoll had tracked me down? Cornelius was gone and maybe I could be the next one for them to kill or try to lure Bonnie out of hiding?

“What?” I shouted.  
“It’s just me.”

I recognized the voice as Charles. He was once again coming to take me back to camp? I didn’t want to go back, but I didn’t want to abandon it, either. What was I supposed to even do? Open the door for him and tell him to go? Or open the door and let him in? I couldn’t have been much company, now, not when I was probably smelled of liquor and was a wet mess from how much I’d been crying. There was no way I could get up off the floor, anyway.

“Come in!” I choked out.

Charles opened the door, probably expecting me to be a sobbing mess on the bed. But instead, he got me sitting on the floor against the wall in between the bed and the side table, but still a sobbing mess and next to a stack of empty bottles. Seeing him and thinking that I’d made him “rescue” me again, I felt ashamed of myself. But he didn’t judge me, ever, not even now. All he did was shut the door behind him and came to sit with me.

“You found me,” I said drunkenly. “Again.”  
“I remembered what you wanted to name your baby if it was a girl,” he admitted.  
I sniffled. “Only you would remember that.”  
“Why’d you leave without tellin’ anyone?”  
“Because I knew most of you would have tried to stop me. I needed to be alone.”

Charles would have let me go, with little to no questions asked. Maybe a question as to when I would have come back and maybe where I would be going, but nothing more than that. He always, _always_, had my best interest in mind and cared about my well-being. I could see why the ladies thought he loved me, but Charles was overall one of the kindest people I’d ever met.

“You know what I’ve learned from these last couple of months?” I asked quietly, wiping at my eyes.  
“What’s that?” he inquired.  
“None of this fucking matters.”  
“What don’t matter, Evie?”  
“None of this! None of what we’re doing and what we have been doing and what everyone else is doing. None of what Dutch and Hosea are doing matters. Nothing matters in the end because we’re all going to _die_ and none of the money or the jewellery or fancy houses and expensive horses will matter.”  
“Life ain’t easy, but all that is to make it more comfortable. We ain’t all lucky, some of us gotta work harder, but that don’t mean it don’t matter.”

Why did being comfortable matter? Why did having money matter? Why did having _anything_ matter? Who decided that life needed to be that way? There was no reason for people to be so poor they couldn’t afford bread or what have them. Who, one day, decided that life was going to be split up into different sections? Who decided who was going to be poor, working hard, working light, or not working at all thanks to all the money they could ask for? What was the point in being alive if it was just a struggle? Why did good people have to suffer? Why did someone like _me_ deserve to be born into a life of luxury? Who gave me the right?

“I can’t blame this one on Dutch,” I sobbed.  
“What?” Charles asked.  
“I’ve blamed Dutch for Sean getting hurt, for the boat in Blackwater, for not caring about me, for so many things. But I can’t blame him for Daddy getting killed.” I began crying harder. “That’s on me. If I hadn’t run away from Arkansas to get adventure like I wanted, he-he wouldn’t have been down here, he wouldn’t have gotten caught -- he’d-he’d still be in Arkansas a-a-and I’d still be there, miserable, but he’d still be alive. I’d marry Declan and live miserably forever if it meant I could have Daddy back.”  
“You mean that?”  
“I loved my father. As much as I hurt him, I loved him. He was the only family I had left and now...” I inhaled sharply, “and now he’s gone and I won’t ever get to see him again. I wish I could take everything I did back.”

I took another sip from the whiskey bottle. It was my fault he was dead. I was too stubborn to return to Arkansas with him and he only stuck around for as long as he did because he wanted to make sure I was safe. I should have stayed with him until he got on the train to return to Arkansas. But I would have rather watched over Sean than make sure Cornelius got home safely. I didn’t know if that meant I wished I didn’t save Sean or if I should have asked someone else to watch him while I had a decent goodbye with my father.

“All of this happened with Daddy because I was stupid to believe that Dutch loved me,” I sobbed. “He never loved me. He didn’t come for me at the cabin; he decided work was more important. Not once did he come looking for me and I was an idiot for believing him when he told me he loved me. Even now, I see that love doesn’t mean anything. Javier didn’t come for me. Sean didn’t come for me. They had to be asked all the time, didn’t they?”  
“Evie...” Charles began, but I cut him off.  
“Javier doesn’t care about me; he only wants me because I’m pretty. Sean gets mad at me because I can’t sleep with him properly and what kind of love is that, Charles? They don’t love me -- no one loves me.”

Just as I was about to take another sip of whiskey, Charles took the bottle from me and set it down next to him. He didn’t want me drinking anymore. However drunk I was, it was probably going to last long enough. I was going to have a headache for multiple days; that much I was certain about. I sniffled and wiped at my eyes again.

“I know you ain’t gonna remember any of this, Evie,” he said.  
“If you’re going to tell me something embarrassing that you need to get out, you better tell me, then,” I choked out. “That way I’ll never remember it to say it to anyone else if I’m drunk another time.”  
“It ain’t embarrassing.”  
“What, you’re going to tell me that _you_ love me now?”

Charles didn’t say anything. He just looked at me as if I’d just answered my own question. Well, that was _exactly_ what it was like. I leaned away from him slightly, blinking up at him. He’d never said anything to me before that would make me think he did love me. How was it that the ladies were able to tell but I wasn’t? He wasn’t one for jokes, either, so I knew what was going on was true.

“What?” I stammered.  
“You can’t read minds,” he said. “I know you can’t. Actions speak louder than words, Evie.”

He spoke with a lot of actions. Everything I asked of him, he did -- no questions asked. All the listening he did when I was upset or sad. All the times he tracked me down to make sure I was okay, to take me back to camp safely. The times he kept me away from danger and the times when he knew I needed a break from camp. The times he physically put himself in harms way just to keep me from getting hurt. He never once tried to interfere with my relationship with Sean, either, or gave me hell for sleeping with Kieran or Javier. As painful as it must have been to see me be with someone other than him, he still did everything for me and not once had asked me to return the favour.

“I won’t remember this,” I sobbed.  
“I will tell you I love you when you’re sober,” he replied. “I ain’t gonna touch you while you’re drunk, Evie.”  
“You wouldn’t do that; I know.” My lower lip trembled. “You’re a good man, Charles. I think that’s one of the reasons why I love you so much.”  
Charles sighed and squeezed my hand. “There are plenty of better men than me. But...now you really need to sleep this off, and you ain’t slept in days.”

I sniffled and nodded, which prompted him to stand. He helped me to my feet and then sat me on the bed. I pulled the blanket away from the pillows before sliding underneath. Charles took the liberty of grabbing the chair at the desk and setting it down next to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out.  
“Don’t be,” he said, placing a hand on my cheek. “We’ve all had a lot of shit happen to us.”  
“Will you stay with me?”  
“Yes, but you need to rest.”  
♞♞♞

I woke up screaming and crying early in the morning from a nightmare about Cornelius. How had I managed to sleep for so long without anything happening? The people in the other rooms of the saloon weren’t going to be happy that I woke them up, but it wasn’t as if I could help it.

“Evie,” Charles said calmly, grabbing my shoulders. “Evie, you’re fine. It’s okay.”

I was confused for a good moment. When the hell had he shown up? Just how drunk had I gotten? But seeing him made me calm down some, leaving me to have heavy breathing. Anyone else and I might have smacked them or worse. I sat up, prompting Charles to let me go. He didn’t sit back in his chair; rather, he stayed leaning forward and held onto my hand while I calmed down.

“When did you get here?” I mumbled.  
“Last night,” he replied. “Think some people thought you went back to Arkansas.”  
“No, I...I don’t think I can return there by myself. It’s too soon.”  
“I understand.”  
“I wasn’t planning on staying away from camp for more than a couple of days. It’s just that I needed to be alone.”  
“You asked me to stay with you.”  
“I... I like it when you’re around, you know, because I--” I felt my face get hot. “Um...”  
“You told me last night.”  
“Of course that was something I did, too. Things come out of my mouth when I’m drunk that I’m too scared to say while I’m sober.”  
“We both knew you wouldn’t remember anythin’ that was said last night, so I promised I’d tell you when you sobered up.”  
“You promised me that you would tell me that I said I love you?”

Charles shook his head. Emotional words didn’t exactly come easy to him. He’d rather not speak and instead do something to show what he was feeling. I’d caught him once sitting with Uncle and it had been the driest conversation on Charles’ side. Uncle was trying to chat his ear off and he would only reply with one or two words. Another time I saw Charles lay Micah out on the ground at Clemens’ Point after Micah tried to order him around.

“I said I would remind you that I love you,” he said.  
I teared up. “Charles, don’t play with me like that.”  
“You know I ain’t one for jokes.”  
“Why? Why would you... I’m not as good a person as I make myself out to be; I--”  
“It ain’t about if you’re a good person or not. You’re good, too; just been through hell. The things that’ve happened to you, nobody would’ve come out the same person. I told you before that there are reasons for people to like you. Not many ladies like you know how to hunt, shoot a gun, or a crossbow. Most of ’em wouldn’t even bother stayin’ in a camp like you do. In the time you’ve been with us, you’ve learned from your mistakes. And ladies who come from your...type of life... They don’t see me the way you do.”  
“But surely there are plenty of ladies who like you, too.”  
“The girls you worked with at the saloon in Valentine are the kind that like me; beggars can’t be choosers.”

A paying man in a saloon was attractive to the women who worked there that were selling their bodies or relied on being able to sell drinks without the men going up to the actual bartender. But those couldn’t be the only women -- and myself -- to actually like him, right? He shouldn’t have sold himself short the way he was, but he knew better than I did. If I took him home to Arkansas, people there would surely assume he was going to be my new servant rather than my romantic partner. As much as I wished to ignore social barriers, they would always be there; and, should we have found ourselves amongst people unlike the accepting people of the gang, the looks we received would be dirty. It was a very big rarity that a white person was in a relationship with someone of another ethnicity.

“The ladies back in camp must like you,” I suggested quietly.  
“Like me enough to be kind to me and not see me as a person below ’em,” Charles replied, finally sitting down in his chair.  
“You’ve always been so nice to me, Charles; even that first time when you took me out hunting.”  
“You asked me what I am the best way you could. It ain’t like I could blame you for not knowin’.”  
“Before you, I’d...I’d never met an Indian before and-and you didn’t look like how the other black people I’d met before looked. It-It was a guess based off photos I’d seen. It really was rude of me to ask.”  
“Like I said, you’ve learned from mistakes.”

Maybe if it had been Charles from the beginning, Cornelius would have been accepting. It hadn’t taken my father long to realize just how kind Charles was to me; he’d spoken to me about it sometimes. Thinking back on it, he probably realized that he loved me, just like everyone else. Had my father dropped any hints that I had missed? He’d never exactly said anything bad in regards to Charles, but had done so toward Dutch, Javier, and Sean. Maybe if it had been Charles to begin with, my father would have turned around and gone right back to Arkansas. The only people from my actual past who had a problem with Charles were Bonnie and Declan.

“You’re...” I sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re the only one in camp that I really trust.”  
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said.  
“Anything I might tell Javier, he may tell Dutch; anything I might tell Sean, it’ll eventually get back to Dutch or someone who _will_ tell Dutch.”  
“It’s that big mouth of his.”

I pulled the clip out of my hair so I could redo my bun, but Charles took it from me. It_ did_ relieve some of the headache I had, but I needed something to fidget with since I felt embarrassed that I spent so long questioning everyone saying that he was first sweet on me and then that he loved me. I’d not said anything to him or asked him if it was true because I didn’t want to assume and make things feel different between us. But would he have answered me honestly if I’d just come out and asked to begin with? I looked at him and realized that, yes, he probably would have.

“Do you remember apologizing to me when we were at that O’Driscolls camp?” I wondered.  
Charles looked confused, as if he wasn’t sure why I was asking such an obvious question. “Yeah.”  
“I didn’t feel panicked.”  
“Could’ve been that you were already scared bein’ in their camp.”  
I looked down at my hands. “When I’m under anybody else, it’s an immediate reaction. The screaming and crying doesn’t begin right away, but...the thoughts begin and the memories come back. I’m able to do it drunk because I suppose I’m not thinking how I normally would. I do things I shouldn’t, too.”  
“You ain’t gotta explain yourself to me.”

I was an idiot, wasn’t I? The whole time I just thought it was because he was so kind to me that he did so many things for me rather than because he cared about me and loved me. Well, he’d always been that way toward me, so whether he loved me or not it didn’t deter his kindness. That was just the kind of man he was. Caring and helpful, and gentle when he needed to be. He wasn’t like Dutch, Sean, or Javier, or even some of the others in camp -- he fought, killed, and stole not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. But even if that was the case, he avoided unnecessary fighting and killing, like when innocent people were involved, if it was at all possible. After such a long moment of silence, I got up from the bed, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.

“You okay?” he asked. “You were quiet and then...”  
“I was just thinking,” I admitted. “You’re... I... Alright. Charles, you’re the only one I trust to show my body to.”  
♞♞♞

“When do you have to be back at camp?” I mumbled.  
“I said I’d be gone for a few days,” Charles said. “Sadie wants me to bring you back.”

Sadie was the only one who really knew how I felt, and vice versa. She’d lost her husband and her home; I’d lost my father and my baby. If anyone really could understand why I needed to be away for a while, it was her. We’d both lost so much. We hadn’t always been so kind to each other, but I was starting to realize that I was going to have to look past whatever differences we had. My yelling at her at Horseshoe hadn’t been wise. I’d not yelled at her since, of course, and the bushwhack was the first time I realized we were both fighting for the same reason. Justice and revenge were things we both wanted, and we just wanted to stop living in fear of the O’Driscolls, and to make sure they didn’t hurt anyone like they hurt us. I owed her an apology.

“If you need more time...” Charles mentioned, letting his voice trail off.  
“I’ll go back tomorrow,” I promised in a whisper.  
“You want me to stay with you till then?”  
“Please.”

I cozied up to him to get some more sleep. He’d had no problem with my body and even had been prepared in case I did end up panicking. But I hadn’t. I felt safe and protected being under him; I trusted him more than I ever trusted anybody else, ever. It was a relief that I’d found someone to be so comfortable with that I didn’t need to worry about anything. The only issue I had was how badly I had scratched up his back; no blood had been drawn, thankfully, but the marks were evident. Still, he didn’t complain and it didn’t even bother him at all. I must have spent ten minutes fretting over it until he was able to reassure me that it really was fine. It was even the first time in a while I’d seen him smile.

When morning came, he wasn’t with me. But he’d left a note for me where I’d easily find it. I gathered the blanket around me so I could read what he’d left. He went to feed Taima and Maple, and then take Taima back to camp to retrieve one of my other dresses. I slipped into the dress I had left the camp in, opened the window, and looked out. Maple looked up and whinnied. In the horrible state I’d been in, I had forgotten to feed her. I couldn’t believe myself. At least Charles had been wise enough to care for her. I shut the window again and sat on the edge of the bed.

Hopefully, soon, _everything_ would turn out okay.


	27. Chapter 27

Charles and I rode back into Shady Belle. It took much convincing for him so I would actually go back so soon. It was the day I intended to return, but I’d been so nervous to do so. What if Susan was mad at me? What if Dutch thought I’d abandoned everyone? What if Hosea was disappointed in me? Charles helped me down from Maple and I followed him through camp. I looked up at the house to see that Dutch was up on the balcony talking with Hosea. It took a moment for him to turn around and see that I’d returned after all.

“Come up here!” he called.  
“You want me to come up there with you?” Charles asked.  
I shook my head. “N-No, it’s okay. Thank you.”

Before I could make it to the house, Abigail ran up to me and threw her arms around me. I stood there for a moment, shocked. Why was she hugging me? I wasn’t even gone for that long. Or had she assumed the worst? If I’d been kidnapped by the O’Driscolls again, she probably thought Charles could have gotten me back himself with no help. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. She let me go without a word and I was able to head up to where Dutch and Hosea were.

“Where’d you get to?” Dutch inquired.  
“Saint Denis,” I replied quietly. “I needed to be alone for a bit.”  
“We can understand that,” Hosea immediately said. “Ain’t that right, Dutch?”  
“Right,” Dutch muttered.

The way he had said that made me feel uncomfortable. _Very_ uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything or if leaving it would be better. In any case, I was glad that Hosea somehow managed to forgive me needing to be by myself. At least he knew that I’d never just abandon the camp. Cornelius being killed was a good reason, but I still didn’t. Dutch was just becoming worse in suspecting me; probably Micah’s doing.

“How are you two doing?” I wondered.  
“Doin’ fine,” Hosea replied.  
“Ain’t doin’ so good,” Dutch admitted.  
“What happened?” I asked, alarmed.  
“That greasy son of a bitch Bronte set us up.”

Of course someone like Bronte would set someone like Dutch up, but what was he talking about? What kind of set up was it this time? How had he not seen it himself? I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. He told me that the trolley station had seemed like a good lead, but there wasn’t much money at all. In fact, it was merely pocket change compared to what we needed to get wherever we were going. The day before, there had been such a commotion -- trolleys breaking, gunshots, screams -- in the city that I’d not even opened the curtains to the room I was staying in. All of that was because of Bronte? I’d seen the aftermath and there were dead bodies everywhere.

“He got a nasty hit on the head,” Hosea mentioned.

Sure enough, here was Dutch doing what he shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. He was going to get himself into even worse trouble if he didn’t stop. Still, I didn’t say anything; if I did, it would be a waste of time and would only fall onto deaf ears.

“Next time you gotta be alone, at least tell someone,” Dutch requested.  
“Leave the girl alone, Dutch,” Hosea said as I walked away.

Downstairs, I found Kieran staring out the window. He was looking much better from the last time I had seen him. But he had a look on his face that I couldn’t quite explain. He turned to look at me and jumped. I’d just been standing there, looking at him, and hadn’t said anything, and I had spooked him slightly.

“You’re back,” he breathed.  
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.  
“Evie, I’m sorry.” He walked over to me and held my hands. “It ain’t right what them O’Driscolls did to your daddy.”  
“Kieran...”  
“It shoulda been me. Not him. I-I _am_ grateful that you saved me, but--”  
“Stop.” My eyes welled up with tears. “I need you to...stop. Right now.”

I didn’t blame Kieran for Cornelius being dead. I so clearly blamed myself and I blamed Colm O’Driscoll. There was no regret I felt in saving Kieran. I was happy he was still alive. But even if he said he was grateful, I could see that he felt guilty that Charles, Mary Beth, and I had rescued him from Colm’s camp. Perhaps it was too soon for me to have returned.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I sniffled.

It was then that Sean wandered in and saw that I was crying. I shook my head and turned around so my back was to him. Kieran quickly made himself scarce; he knew that there was potentially going to an argument.

“Why are you cryin’?” Sean asked. “What did that O’Driscoll do?”  
“He did nothing,” I snapped. “He did nothing and he’s not an O’Driscoll.”  
“_Jesus_, would ya look at me?”  
I turned to look at him. “What?”  
“We were all worried, y’know.”  
“I’m sure you were.”  
“Why’d you say it like that?”

I glared at him. He should have known full well why I sounded angry with him. The day I had left, the ladies had assumed I just needed to be alone and didn’t check for me in my tent, but none of the men, other than Charles, realized I was missing. Charles had even told me, when I asked, that Sean didn’t appear to be worried at all, and when he went back to get one of my dresses, Javier wasn’t concerned, either. So much for loving me, I supposed.

“How’s your shoulder?” I asked.  
“It’s fine; don’t be changin’ the subject on me,” Sean said.  
“I know I said to leave me alone, but it’s strange to me that the two men who claim to love me so much didn’t bother checking up on me in my tent or noticed I was gone.”  
He took a moment to answer. “Well, it ain’t like we’re _Charles_. We don’t notice--”  
“Wouldn’t it be self-explanatory to check up on the lady you’re sweet on after what happened?”  
“I _do_ love ya, Evie.” Sean grabbed one of my hands with both of his. “I thought that I’d be the last person you’d wanna see.”  
“Charles told me you weren’t worried.”  
“Yeah. _Charles_ said.”  
“Don’t say his name like that. He’s a good man.” I pulled my hand back. “Maybe I’m asking too much from you, but at least he tried to find me. If it hadn’t been for him showing up in Saint Denis, I...”

I stopped talking and looked at the floor. Charles finding me had stopped me from killing myself. I wanted to die ever since the cabin and my father dying just made the feelings worse. Somehow I knew if I managed to go through with it, Maple would be well taken care of. Using a fake name like I did had been so no one could find me, but, alas, of course Charles was the one who could figure it out. I thought it would have been easier to go through with it in a hotel room, away from camp, as opposed to in my tent.

“Hey, princess, missed ya around here,” Micah said as he wandered by us. “Busy whorin’ yourself out in Saint Denis to ease your pain?”  
“Oh, fuck off, Micah, ya goddamn greasy arsehole,” Sean snapped.  
“Um...I need to find Sadie...” I mumbled as Micah walked off.

Despite Sean trying to keep me in the house so we could talk some more, I left. Sadie was standing by the chickens as they ate. She turned to look at me when I approached her.

“Hey,” she said, sounding happy to see me.  
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” I replied quietly. “I’ve not always been so kind to you, but you were still nice enough to make sure Charles found me and brought me back. And when Daddy died...”  
“Don’t mention it, Evie.” Sadie placed a hand on my shoulder with a small smile. “What we went through, well, it ain’t easy. What those O’Driscolls did to this camp and to your father -- we’re gonna get ’em back someday. They think they’re tough shit, but they’re just cowards. Oh, yeah, I, er, cleaned up your dress for ya. It’s a real nice dress and we weren’t sure if you’d want it still.”  
“Thank you.”  
“So...did you and, uh...Charles...talk about...things?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, I nodded and felt my face become hot. I still felt like an idiot for not believing anyone that Charles loved me. At least that was out of the way and I could actually relax around him.

“Oh.” Sadie chuckled nervously. “You did more than just talk, huh?”  
I cleared my throat. “Dutch got himself into trouble?”  
“Arthur and Lenny, too. Shot up all of Saint Denis.”  
“I heard it and saw the aftermath.”  
“Oh, shit.”

For a second, I thought that she was talking about how I’d seen what happened, but that wasn’t the case. She suddenly pulled out her gun and started shooting behind me. I screamed at the sound of it.

“Sorry!” she groaned. “Frickin’ gators been comin’ into camp the last few days.”  
“It’s-- It’s-- No, it’s--” I panted. “It’s okay...”  
“They ain’t gonna come back here.”

Sadie knew exactly what I was afraid of; and it wasn’t the alligators. The alligators could walk into camp all they wanted and they wouldn’t scare me as much as the thought of the O’Driscolls coming back to bushwhack us. What was taking Dutch so long trying to get us out of Shady Belle? Okay, well, he was clearly getting duped by rich Italian men and shooting up the city.

“I’m gonna be spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder if Colm and his men aren’t dealt with, Sadie,” I told her quietly.  
“Charles will protect you,” Sadie said with a wink. “Anyway, it’s gettin’ late. You should probably try to settle in.”

It had taken Charles all day to convince me to come back to camp; it had already been a little after nine thirty when we rode back in. I nodded at Sadie and wandered over to my tent. Sitting on my cot, I pulled out the photo I took from my father’s body from the inside of my dress. I really wasn’t ready to be back in camp, but I knew I couldn’t have been away for much longer. It was either abandon everyone or only spend a few days by myself. Well, it wasn’t like I’d one hundred percent been keen on returning.

“Hey, Evie?” Charles called.  
“Come in,” I replied.

When he came in, I was still looking down at the photo.

“What’s that?” he asked.  
“This was taken a few days before I met Dutch,” I admitted quietly, handing it to him.

Charles looked at the photo, but stayed quiet. I knew I looked different in it. Obviously I hadn’t yet been showing when Dutch took me to Blackwater, but I’d already begun getting a bit chubbier and sicker looking. Even now, when I wasn’t pregnant anymore, I still looked different. I looked tired now, and still had a bit of the fat leftover from the baby, and sickly since I didn’t eat much. Most of all, though, I didn’t look happy.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Charles assured me.  
“Dutch seems to be really angry with me,” I told him. “Uncomfortably angry.”  
“Probably just that knock on his head.”  
“Do you have guard duty?”  
“Not ’til morning. You want me to stay with you?”  
♞♞♞

Again, I woke up screaming and crying. Since Charles was on guard duty, he wasn’t able to get to me to calm me down. Abigail ended up rushing into my tent to do it herself. I felt confused for a few moments, like I didn’t remember where I was or how I even made it back to camp. The nightmare I had had been so sudden and terrifying that I could barely think straight. After managing to calm me down, Abigail grabbed my shoulders.

“You’re fine,” she sighed with relief. “You’re fine.”  
“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammered, wiping at my eyes. “Sorry.”  
“Don’t be. Ain’t nothin’ you did wrong. It’s right idiotic to think you’d come back here and be okay after what happened. C’mon, now; let’s get you some coffee.”

I followed Abigail out of my tent. Everybody was awake and hopefully it wasn’t because of what I did. The two of us sat down once we had our coffee. I didn’t know what to say, though. If I were to tell anyone where I was going and it wasn’t Charles, it would have been Abigail. I didn’t want her thinking I didn’t trust her.

“Did Dutch say anything while I was gone?” I wondered. “Or...was he so focused on that job in Saint Denis?”  
Abigail thought for a moment. “Well, it weren’t exactly _Dutch_ to say anythin’. Micah was spoutin’ some garbage about you up and runnin’.”  
“Of course he did...”  
“Must’ve got to Dutch’s head, though, seein’ as how he talked to ya last night.”  
“You...heard that?”  
“Ya know, Evie,” Abigail placed a hand on my arm, “if ya did run off, none of us would blame ya. Miss Grimshaw and us girls, I mean. You been through a lot.”

I inhaled sharply and pat her hand that was resting on my arm. That was slightly comforting, to say the least, that the ladies would let me run off without getting their bloomers in a wad. I looked down at the tin cup, swallowing hard.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Abigail asked.  
“Before Charles showed up in Saint Denis, I...” My lips twitched. “In that hotel room, I was trying to get myself drunk enough, I suppose, to not feel anything.”  
“Oh, Evie, that ain’t a way to live. Not feelin’ anythin’? What’s life like without somethin’ like love?”  
“No, Abigail; I was going to shoot myself.”

She blinked at me and retracted her hand. To say she looked concerned would have been an understatement. What I said was the truth, though. If it hadn’t been for Charles finding me, I probably would have most certainly been dead already. I moved a strand of hair out of my face.

“Well, that’s...” she murmured. “Oh, my.”  
“Either Charles showed up when I was still in the middle of my drinking or I just got so drunk enough that I forgot to kill myself.” I held back more tears. “I couldn’t be a proper lady in society, I can’t bring game back properly, and I can’t kill myself properly.”  
“Those two first things ain’t a big deal, but I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself. Let’s talk about somethin’ better, okay? Hm...”  
“Charles told me he loves me.”

Abigail suddenly had a look on her face that said “told you so”.

“That man always goes outta his way to keep you safe,” she said.  
“He’s...special...” I mumbled.  
“Not many men do what he does. Hold onto him, okay?”  
“I don’t want to let him go, anyway.”  
“So you talked?”  
“We, um...er...did more than talk...”  
“Oh, well, good for you, then, finally comin’ to terms with your feelings.”

She got up to go find Jack and I was left by myself. Well, not for long. I got up to empty out the rest of my coffee near the treeline, when Micah came up behind me and grabbed me. I didn’t realize it was him until I turned around, but I was still furious.

“Missed ya ’round here,” he sneered. “Ain’t much to look at when somethin’ as loose as you ain’t here.”  
“Micah Bell, you pig!” I shouted, punching him in the throat.

I quickly stormed away, wiping yet even more tears from my eyes. As I did so, I heard him choke out that I had a good punch. I stomped back into my tent and kicked over the stools. If anyone else had done it, like Javier or Sean, they would have said something beforehand. That was the only way I knew I could be angry was because Micah hadn’t said anything first, and it wasn’t like Charles would do that. It took me a moment to calm down and gather myself before I could even bear going back outside.

“You ain’t been back a day and you’re already makin’ problems,” Dutch mentioned as I passed him.  
I turned to him. “Excuse you?”  
“Screamin’ so early in the morning and then punchin’ Mister Bell?”  
I scoffed. “Well, Mister van der Linde, I’m sorry for having nightmares and for not liking being touched by someone less than vermin.” I pulled out my fake English accent next. “I so very humbly apologize that I am not as perfect as Your Highness. Shall I next grovel on the ground at your feet and beg for your forgiveness?”  
“Petty ain’t a good look on you, Miss Locke.”  
I used my regular voice. “In case you forgot, my father _just got murdered_! And you expect me to be a happy and quiet woman or allow myself to be poked and prodded? Well, why not put a bell around my neck and use my first given name! If you didn’t want me back, you should have just told Charles before he brought me back, or even told me when you asked to speak with me! How _dare_ you chastise me?!”

I scowled at him and walked off, quickly. The nerve of him, the nerve of _Micah_. I wasn’t even gone for that long and suddenly Dutch felt the need to be completely sour toward me? I hadn’t abandoned the camp after all and it wasn’t as if I wanted to have nightmares or wake up screaming and crying, or disturb everyone else.

“How you gettin’ on?” Lenny asked when I stopped by the horses.  
“I really could be better,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.  
“I understand. It ain’t easy when somethin’ like _that_ happens, so I get how you feel.”  
“Does it ever get easier?”  
“Well, I watched my own father get killed in front of me, and I killed the men who killed him. On the run for three years for murder before I landed here. When it gets easier, I’ll let you know.”

Losing a baby was heartbreaking. Losing a parent was heart-shattering. Losing both was...soul-shattering. Nothing could quite feel like it, could it? I pat Lenny’s shoulder with a sigh.

“Oh, I-I, um...” I stammered, reaching into Maple’s saddlebag. “I forgot to give this back to you...”

I pulled out Lenny’s knife; the one I’d taken from him when the O’Driscolls bushwhacked us. With all the chaos and the aftermath, I’d completely forgotten about it. He took it from me and looked at it when I held it out to him.

“Nah, you keep it,” he said, placing it back in my hand. “Far as I see it, you earned it.”  
“Are you sure?” I asked.  
“Well, yeah. Besides, I can get a new knife anytime. But you should consider that a trophy.”

I holstered the knife as Hosea walked up to me, leading Lenny to wander off. Hosea looked desperate somehow; hopefully it wasn’t because of me. He was sick and the last thing I wanted was to cause him any unnecessary stress -- he got enough from Dutch and his stupid ideas.

“Morning, Mister Matthews,” I said. “How are you?”  
“Still breathin’, I suppose,” he chuckled. “Can I ask ya to do somethin’?”  
“It...depends on what it is...”  
“Wouldja talk to Dutch? He ain’t listenin’ to me and he’s gonna do somethin’ stupid.”

I looked behind Hosea and into the camp, where I saw Dutch standing back on the balcony of the house. It was a few seconds before I looked back at Hosea.

“If he won’t listen to you, why do you think he’ll listen to me?” I wondered. “He’s never exactly listened to me before. Besides, I think I’m the last person he’d like to see right now.”  
“Please, Evie; just try for me,” he said.  
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. What is it I’m talking to him about?”  
“He wants to teach that Bronte feller a lesson for settin’ him up about the trolley station. Now I ain’t took sure what he’s really plannin’ to do besides takin’ him out of his house, but...”

I shook my head and walked toward the house. Upstairs, I joined Dutch on the balcony.

“Mister Matthews wants me to talk to you,” I told him.  
He blew cigar smoke out. “About what?”  
“About the circus, Dutch.” I sighed with frustration. “About what you’re going to do to Angelo Bronte; what else?”  
“Oh, so now he wants _you_ to try and talk me out of it?”  
“He’s worried about you.”  
“I know he is, but this is somethin’ I gotta _do_.”  
“Dutch, whatever we used to have, can’t you think about that for a second? You listened to me before the cabin. Why can’t we leave _now_? Take everybody and sail for Tahiti or Russia or cross the border into Canada or-or wherever the hell we can escape to.”  
“I’ve got a _plan_, Miss Locke.” Dutch looked at me with a hardened expression. “Are you _with me_ or are you _against me_?”  
“I came back, so I am with you, but--”  
“Then stop with the doubtin’ and show me some goddamn _faith_!”

I jumped at his shout and immediately ran downstairs. Karen was in the room that was once the living room and looked at me from the couch.

“Heya, Evie,” she said cautiously. “Everythin’ alright?”  
I held my breath to keep tears from coming out. “Great,” I exhaled. “Everything’s just...great.”  
Arthur came walking into the house. “Hey, when did you get back?”  
“L-Last night...”  
“Lookin’ a little spooked there.”  
“Dutch just screamed at her,” Karen told him.  
“I know about how he hit his head,” I sniffled, “but...but I don’t think that’s just it, Arthur...”  
“It’s gonna be fi--”  
“Everyone keeps saying things are going to be fine! It’s not fine! What’s going on _isn’t_ fine! It’s far from fine! Am I insane or am I really not seeing the ‘fine’ here?! Sean almost got killed, Kieran almost got killed, my daddy is dead, Colm O’Driscoll knows where we are, something’s wrong with Dutch -- how is anything fine, Arthur?!”


	28. Chapter 28

“Evie, you wanna go huntin’?” Sean asked.  
“When have we ever gone hunting together?” I replied, not looking up from the sock I was darning.  
“_Jesus_, just say ‘no’.”  
“I’m not saying ‘no’. How’s the shoulder?”  
“Enough about me shoulder, it’s _fine_.”

I set the sock down with a sigh and stood up. There was only one way to actually know that his shoulder actually _was_ fine. I shoved him by it, hard enough that he had to hold his balance. Sean winced.

“Ask me again when your shoulder is actually fine,” I told him.  
“Hey--” he began.  
“If you wish to argue with someone about your shoulder, find someone else.”  
“Sorry; didn’t realize it was too much to ask to spend some time with ya.”  
“Well, _say_ that you want to spend time with me.”  
“Charles don’t gotta say that...”  
“Charles doesn’t have any ulterior motives. If we go hunting, it’s to go hunting. If we go into town for something, it’s just to get something. If he wants to talk to me, it’s just to talk.”

Being with Charles was completely different than when Sean and I were together, or even when Dutch and I were together. Both Sean and Dutch were very public and open about our relationships, but Charles was more private. Somehow I preferred it the way he did. Even Javier was vocal about the things we had done, much to my chagrin.

“‘Ulterior motives’...” Sean scoffed.  
“It means if Charles and I were to go hunting, it wouldn’t be sidetracked by us hiding and--” I began.  
“Yeah! Yeah, fine, I get it!”

Going hunting with Sean would have been a good opportunity for him to try and do something he couldn’t do in camp since I no longer allowed anyone but Charles into my tent. Either he really did miss me or he was just jealous because I moved on to someone else. I didn’t know how many times I had to remind people that it was always Charles to be there when something was wrong; not Sean, not Javier, and obviously not Dutch.

“D’ya still love me, at least?” Sean wondered.  
“Yes, but you know full well why we’re not together,” I said.  
“You’re gonna marry me one day. Just remember that.”  
I rolled my eyes. “Stay determined, Sean.”

He wandered off and I went back to darning. At least Sean was still talking to me; Javier hadn’t said a thing to me since I’d come back from Saint Denis, and that was almost a week ago. I was actively trying to avoid Dutch whenever possible; what happened with Bronte made Arthur ask me to be cautious. He didn’t tell me what exactly had happened, but just that nothing good happened. It was a relief, at least, that everyone actually made it out alive.

Charles walked over to me, carrying something in his arms. When he got closer, I saw that it looked fuzzy.

“Can we go to your tent?” he asked.  
“Sure,” I mumbled. “Is everything okay?”  
“Fine.”

I followed him over into my tent, where he placed the fuzzy object onto my cot. It was only a few short seconds of confusion, since I still didn’t know what it was or what he needed to talk to me about.

“I know it gets cold at night,” he said. “It don’t bother me, but you’re always shivering with the blanket you already have.”  
“Oh...” I murmured, pressing my hand against it. “It’s so soft. Thank you.”  
“It’s bison.”  
“I’ve never seen one before.”  
“I’ll have to take you to see ’em sometime. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work. Unless you wanna go hunting with me?”  
“Yes, let’s go.”

I grabbed my crossbow and began to follow Charles toward where the horses were. But I stopped just short of where they were with a sigh.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asked.  
“I should tell Dutch where I’m going so he doesn’t yell at me when we come back,” I muttered. “I can’t have Micah telling him I’ve gone and run off again.”  
“Okay; I’ll wait here.”

Rather than being cooped up in the house, Dutch was actually standing out front smoking a cigar. He looked at me as I approached him.

“Miss Locke,” he said with a nod.  
“I’m telling you as a courtesy because I don’t want Micah putting lies in your head about me,” I replied. “I’m going hunting with Charles.”  
“Fine. Whatever. Don’t gotta tell me that stuff.”  
“You sure make it sound like I _need_ to, Dutch. Miss Grimshaw! I’m going hunting with Charles!”

When I got back over to Charles, Sadie was standing next to her horse, too.

“Mind if I come huntin’ with ya?” she wondered.  
“Erm... Well, _I_ don’t, but...” I let my voice trail off as I looked at Charles.  
“Pearson said we’re really low on meat, so...I guess,” he replied.

I mounted Maple and waited for Charles to mount Taima, and then Sadie to mount Bob. The two of them didn’t want to travel too far away from camp, but there wasn’t too much game so close. There wasn’t much close to Saint Denis, either, since it was such a bustling city. We found our way into the bayou -- the hot, sticky, alligator infested bayou. From what I understood, it was also home to wild boars and possums, among other things. I would have rathered made the journey back toward Clemens’ point and hunt some deer, but I didn’t know if the people of Rhodes were still wary.

“I think there’s some boars over that way,” Charles mentioned, pointing into the trees.  
“You two should stick together,” Sadie suggested, slowly heading into that direction. “I’ll get one.”  
“Don’t use no guns.”  
“I know how to hunt, Charles.”

She disappeared into the trees and we were left alone. We rode a bit further on the path until we came near a clearing that seemed to be infested with alligators. Those things were terrifying; why would anyone want to mess with them? My question was answered when Charles fired an arrow off at one. It quickly ran into the trees.

“Wait here; I won’t be two minutes,” he said.  
“If I see something, I’m killing it!” I called after him.

He ended up scaring a wild boar out of the forest. I immediately grabbed my crossbow and shot it. Just as I was about to jump down from Maple to go and skin it, an alligator ran right by her, somehow managing to spook her. She threw me off; I landed on the ground with a big yelp. That was so unlike her; she never got spooked. But I quickly learned it wasn’t the animal that had scared her; it was Bonnie.

I didn’t know it was her until I had somehow managed to scramble to my feet and back up against a tree; no way was I going to be eaten by an alligator. I found out it was Bonnie when I heard her cock her gun and come out of the trees. She looked rough, really; I had to suppose that being on the run from someone like Colm O’Driscoll would do that to someone. Still, she was clearly doing her best to keep herself looking as nice as possible. If she got rid of the dirt on her face and clothes and combed out her hair, she’d look proper.

“You never returned my letter,” she sighed.  
“B-Bonnie...” I stammered.  
“I was hoping to find you around these parts.”

The closer she got, the closer I was to screaming. I didn’t want her anywhere near me. I didn’t want her to hurt me again like how she had at the cabin or to talk down to me or the gang. She set her gun down by a tree and placed her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you come any closer,” I demanded.  
“Tessa, I just need your help,” she admitted.

My help? She needed my help after everything she did to me; after everything she let those men do to me; what she let Colm do to me? Why would she ever think I would help her after all of that? Was she going to try and tell me that being family mattered? As far as I felt, my only blood family was dead and she no longer meant anything to me.

“Excuse me?” I snapped.  
“Colm is-- He’s going to kill me,” she said, sounding afraid. “I told the police about where he is and he’s somehow found out and--”  
“Well, good! After what you did, I hope he does kill you.”  
“What? What did I do?”  
“You know what you did; what you let those O’Driscolls do to me!”  
“Tessa, I never did anything.”

She waved me off as if I was making things up for attention, but just from the look on her face I could tell she was trying not to laugh. I wasn’t her daughter; I hadn’t been her daughter since she left Arkansas. She lost that right the moment I figured out who she really was and who she ran with. I wanted to kill her myself, but I was too scared to reach for my gun. She was slowly inching closer to me. I opened my mouth to scream; she covered my mouth before I could even get a sound out.

“You don’t want to do that,” she whispered. “Trust me.”

Bonnie took her hand off my mouth with a chuckle. Years of being on the run and being in gangs and doing the things she did must have finally taken they’re toll on her. She was tired of running even though she only ever brought that on herself.

“I was only able to buy myself a little bit of time,” she told me. “I saw Cornelius in Saint Denis; figured I could trade his life for mine.”  
It felt like my heart leapt into my throat. “Wh-What?”  
“I told Colm where he was.”

I started sobbing. It had been _Bonnie_ who led the O’Driscolls to him? Not only was it my fault my father was dead, but the love of his life’s fault as well? I couldn’t believe her. I knew she had never loved me and she let them do what they wanted to me, but I thought she still at least loved Cornelius. How could she do that to him? Did she truly think Colm would just let her go?

“How could you?!” I asked. “Daddy loved you--”  
“I loved him, too, you ungrateful bitch!” she snapped. “But out here, it’s survival of the fittest! We both know who’s fault it is that he was out here in the first place! Love doesn’t mean anything out here!”  
“If anyone is ungrateful, it’s _you_. Daddy married you and tried to give you a life he thought you deserved!”  
“You’ve been out here for so long, but you’re still so naïve. There’s no getting away from this! No matter how hard you try, everything that has ever happened will always haunt you.”  
“Everything I went through in that cabin and what happened to Daddy already _does_ haunt me, Bonnie.”  
“You’re always going to try and find something to quell those dreams and those thoughts -- love, money, a big house, what-have-you. But nothing will ever help. I thought that marrying Cornelius would magically fix everything, but no -- it didn’t. Instead, it left me with regret and a daughter who turned out to be a whore.”  
I stomped my foot. “I’m not a whore!”  
“Oh, _please_. When I saw him last, your father told me about the Mexican, the Irish, and that redskin. To think, you would actually allow a _greaser_ and a _redskin_ into your sheets.”  
“You can’t judge me for who I sleep with; you’re not my mother!”  
“Tessa, I sure as hell brought you into this fucking world,” She held her knife up to my throat, “and I sure as hell can take you the fuck out of it.”

Bonnie really meant it, too; the moment she finished speaking, she ran her blade across my throat. This was immediately before one of Charles’ tomahawks came up behind her and lodged itself into her skull. She staggered backwards before falling to the ground. I had one of my hands wrapped around my throat, unable to do anything about it.

“Shit!” Charles had already began running to me before Bonnie even fell. “Evie!”

I was horrified. It was no secret that I wanted to die, but I didn’t want to die because I’d had my throat slit, and especially not in the middle of a muddy bayou. Charles took my hand away and held both of his on where Bonnie had cut me. I pressed my hands against him, tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t speak or scream; all I could do was cry. I’d managed to save Kieran, Sean, and Cornelius once, but it seemed like I wouldn’t even be able to save myself.

“You’re okay,” Charles tried to assure me in a calm voice. “Ain’t nothin’ bad is gonna happen.”  
“Jesus!” Sadie shouted, coming out of the trees.

She hopped off of Bob and ran over to us.

“Sadie, hold her throat like this and don’t let go,” Charles said. “I’m gonna get Miss Grimshaw and Reverend Swanson.”  
“Okay,” she agreed, replacing Charles.

I was only hoping that Swanson wasn’t drunk or hadn’t taken a hit of morphine. Susan was going to have a fit -- how did someone go out hunting but then get their throat slit by their monster of a mother? Sadie tried to talk to me even if I couldn’t answer; she just wanted me to remain as calm as I could. How was something like this going to be fixed? I thought about if I had taken Sean up on his offer to go hunting. If this had happened with him, would he have known what to do? Or would I have died in the bayou when he went back to camp to try and get help? He wouldn’t have let Sadie come.

“You just gotta stay awake, okay?” Sadie said. “Don’t think about nothin’ bad; think about somethin’ good. One day you’ll get married -- probably to Charles, honestly -- and you’ll have a nice lookin’ house and ain’t nothin’ will hurt ya again. Don’t that sound nice?”

I tried to speak, but all the came out of my mouth was a whimper. She must have known what I was trying to say, because her expression hardened.

“You ain’t gonna die, Evangeline,” she scolded me. “I ain’t gonna tell Charles ya love him, ’cause when you’re better you’re gonna tell him yourself.”

I was losing strength and so I ended up falling to the ground. Luckily, Sadie didn’t let me go and instead followed me down and managed to get me sitting up against the tree. I’d apologized to her already, but I still couldn’t help how mean I had been to her in the past. And now here she was, trying to keep me alive. I didn’t know what she was thinking; if someone had treated me the way I had treated her, I wouldn’t try to save them. I’d leave them there to bleed out and I wouldn’t feel bad about it.

It felt like forever until Charles returned with Susan and Swanson, both sober and aware what was happening.

“Oh, good Lord,” Susan snapped. “Let me take over, Miss Adler. Alright, now, Miss Locke, everything’s gonna be okay.”

She had brought along a kit that looked to contain stitches and a needle; it was what she must have used to patch up John when he got rescued from the mountain and those wolves. Swanson also brought his morphine to make the stitching more bearable; it would have been preferable to do it back in camp, but that seemed impossible since it was my throat and not something else.

“Mister Smith, I need you to hold your hands on her neck while I fix her up,” Susan said.

Without questioning it, Charles did as he was told. The morphine took a moment to kick in and then the stitching ensued. It still hurt, but not as much as if I didn’t have a drug in my system. Sadie and Swanson stood off to the side, both looking extremely worried. So badly I wanted to scream, though I knew I couldn’t, otherwise I would rip out the stitches. Susan was being more thorough than she had been on John’s face since it was my neck.

“I’ve done all I can do,” she mentioned, putting her kit away. “C’mon, all of you, let’s get this girl back to camp!”

I pointed at the boar while Charles pulled his tomahawk out of Bonnie’s skull.

“Oh, for-- Reverend, go get that thing and bring it back to camp!” Susan commanded. “C’mon, now, up you get with Mister Smith. You’ll be alright to at least speak again in a couple of days.”

I was nervous about going back to camp again. Only I could mess up going hunting and instead be turned into the hunted, couldn’t I? I wrapped my arms tightly around Charles and pressed my face into his back. There was no way I could face Dutch, but there was no helping it, was there? He was going to get mad at me again and this time around I wasn’t going to be able to speak up for myself.

Abigail and Mary Beth ran over to Taima when we arrived in camp. By the expression on their faces, they’d been scared that I wasn’t going to make it back for good this time. Really, I shouldn’t have made it back; but I did, thanks to Charles knowing what to do and for Sadie being there.

“Gave us a fright there, Evie,” Hosea mentioned as I walked through camp.

I looked at him apologetically.

“Well, it ain’t like I blame ya,” he said. “You’re a good girl and it ain’t easy to get used to this life.”  
“What life?” Dutch asked, wandering over to us.  
“The outlaw life.”  
“She knew what she was gettin’ herself into.”  
“Ain’t no one expects for _this_ to happen to ’em.”  
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to buckle down and just do the house chores, huh?” Dutch looked at me. “Seems that lately all that happens when ya leave, somethin’ bad follows you.”  
“Dutch, for Christ’s sake, leave the girl alone. Arthur, would you escort Miss Locke back to her tent?”

Arthur had been simply minding his own business when Hosea had called out to him, but he complied. He walked with me back to my tent.

“Don’tcha worry about Dutch,” he said. “Times is tough, is all.”

I shrugged at him.

“Well, I suppose you won’t be doin’ much,” he continued, opening his satchel. “Found this while I was out, er, robbin’ houses this mornin’ and I remembered that ya lost your needlepoint.”

He handed me a needlepoint kit. I took it from him with a thankful smile. My smile probably didn’t show it, on account that I had almost just died, but I was so happy that I could begin doing needlepoint again.

“I’ll catch ya later, then,” Arthur said, walking off.

As I was about to enter my tent, Sean came up to me and hugged me tightly. I stood there for a moment, unsure of what he thought he was doing. I hugged him back, but only for a few seconds until he pulled back.

“_Jesus_, what the hell happened, eh?” he asked. “All I heard was somethin’ about that O’Driscoll cunt and you bleedin’ out or somethin’ or other.”

I blinked at him.

“What are ya just lookin’ at me for?” he wondered. “Ain’t ya gonna say anythin’ to me?”  
“She can’t talk, you idiot; she had her throat cut!” Karen snapped at him. “There ain’t no way she’s gonna talk right now.”  
“Wouldn’t’ve happened if ya went huntin’ with me and not Charles--”

I slapped him and then disappeared into my tent.

“Ah, that just means she loves me,” Sean chuckled.  
“No, it means she’s mad at you,” Tilly replied.  
“She loves me-e-e-e-e.”

I sat on my cot and set the needlepoint onto one of the stools. The slap did mean I was mad at him, but he knew I still loved him. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care for me enough, as I had mentioned to so many others so many times before. I was just about to get changed out of my bloody clothes when Charles came into my tent. Before he could even say anything, I threw my arms around him tightly and buried my face in his chest.

“Sorry I had to leave you,” he said quietly.

I shook my head.

“You should be resting,” he insisted.

Again, I shook my head.

“You ain’t gonna get better if you don’t rest,” he persisted.

I didn’t shake my head. Charles was right; I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I didn’t at least lay down and try to sleep while the morphine was still in my body. I pulled away from him.

“I’ve got guard duty, but...Miss Grimshaw and Swanson are gonna check on you sometimes,” he continued. “Ain’t no one is gonna bother you, either.”  
♞♞♞

I woke up in a heavy sweat, my throat hurting again, not only from the slice but from the stitches. Susan came into the tent with a piece of cloth soaked in water. She must have been watching over me while I slept and gone to get it when I began to run my fever. She gently dabbed my forehead with a sigh.

“You’re gonna be alright, Miss Locke,” she said. “The worst thing ’bout this is it’ll leave a scar.”

I knew that already, but I didn’t want anymore scars on my body. It was better when they were all hidden beneath my clothes and now I was going to have to wear dresses and shirts with a tall collar. I wanted so badly to go see Cornelius’ grave, just so I could sit there. Somehow, it would be like spending time with him, right? No one would allow me to leave camp, though; not when I was like this.

“How’s she doin’?” Hosea asked, opening the flap of my tent and peering in.  
“She’ll pull through just fine,” Susan replied. “Just runnin’ a bit of a fever.”  
“Dutch, uh, Dutch wants to sit with her.”  
“Oh, please, the last thing she needs now is to get yelled at again.”  
“No, said he just wants to read to her since she must be gettin’ bored.”  
“She just woke up, Mister Matthews. You want Dutch to come sit--”

Before she could even finish her sentence, I shook my head. No. I didn’t want Dutch anywhere near me; not in a state where he could talk to me but I couldn’t reply. Anyone but Micah and Dutch were fine to sit with me, though there was a list -- a short list -- of people I would want to sit with me.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Hosea sighed. “I’ll sit with her now, Miss Grimshaw.”

At that, I didn’t shake my head or anything. He was on that short list, but of course he was near the bottom. He’d thought ahead and brought a book himself. His company was enough to distract me from most of the pain thanks to the lack of morphine in my body now. The air from the swamp couldn’t have been doing him any good for his own health; like in Rhodes, it was thick, hot, and soupy, just with extra alligators.

“Take no offence, Evie, dear, but it would’ve been better for you to never have met Dutch,” he said.

At this point in time, it wasn’t like a disagreed with him. So many things would have been different in my life if I’d just chosen to stay home that night I wanted to go to that town and into that saloon. Or maybe if I’d just not spoken to Dutch at all, or had gone on a different night. I should have stayed playing the dutiful daughter and dealt with a possible marriage from one of the rich suitors. I’d been so selfish in my actions, and those actions resulted in my baby being taken from me, my body to be scarred and ruined, and my father dying. I should never have wanted to seek adventure.

“There ain’t no turnin’ back time, though,” Hosea sighed. “What’s done is done, even if Dutch’s choices will damn us all.”

Hosea himself had just admitted to doubting Dutch? I looked at him, surprised.

“He ain’t himself these days,” he continued. “I dunno when it started, but...things ain’t gonna be the same soon. I can feel it. Everyone’s gonna have to make a decision or two, sooner or later. Ah, enough drivel outta me; I’ll get back to readin’.”


	29. Chapter 29

I pulled the thread tightly and tied it off before holding my dress up against my body. I’d just outfitted it with a tall collar so I could keep my scar on my throat hidden. Susan had gone out of her way to look through any fabrics the camp had that would look nice. One dress down, three more to go. At least with my shirt, I could just wear a handkerchief around my neck. Bonnie hadn’t cut too deep, apparently, but it still had been bad enough that if I hadn’t gotten the stitches, I would have bled out. With her dead, I hoped she was the dinner of a wild boar or an alligator.

“Feelin’ better?” Dutch asked.  
“A little,” I replied softly.

Susan scolded me that if I talked then I needed to do it softly, at least until the scar was completely healed. Micah had already taken advantage of my not being able to scream and antagonized me enough times that Lenny and Hosea got themselves involved. I’d reminded him, of course, that just because I couldn’t scream, I still had all four of my limbs and I could punch or kick him.

“You plannin’ on runnin’ away?” Dutch suddenly asked.

I scrunched my eyebrows together and looked up at him. What was his problem now? Why did he feel like picking a fight with me? I had valid reasons to leave, but I also had valid reasons to stay. I didn’t know which ones outweighed the others, but leaving would mean I probably wouldn’t be able to see Charles, Abigail, or any of the other ladies again. Susan taking care of me really showed that just because she had a fiery temper and yelled at everyone it didn’t mean she didn’t care. Of course, I still thought she could lighten up just a bit.

“No,” I replied.  
“What’s the collar for, then, if not to return to high and polite society?” Dutch wondered.  
“To cover my neck; what else would it be for?”  
“You are truly a vain woman, Miss Locke.”  
“That’s not a secret. If you want to lecture someone about being vain, either have yourself a look in a mirror or scold Javier. I don’t know what happened with Angelo Bronte, but don’t take any confusion you have about your life out on me.”  
“Ain’t no one gives a horse’s ass whether you got a scar on your neck or n--”  
“Yes, well, I _do_, Dutch van der Linde.” I stood up with a huff. “If I had these scars on my body and on my neck when we first met, you wouldn’t have looked at me. Probably not even Javier, either.”

I stormed away from him to find Susan, but instead found Abigail. I showed her my work on the collar and she was speechless. I’d done a shoddy job, even though Susan had said she’d do it. But of course, I wanted to prove I could do it on my own and told her “no”. She was definitely going to tell me something along the lines of “told ya so”. I’d not used the correct colour of thread, for one; it was a purple several shades lighter than the dress.

“It ain’t that noticeable,” Abigail tried to assure me. “Really, it ain’t.”  
“It is to me,” I told her.  
“You’re still pretty. Go on, now; I’ll fix this for you and leave it at your tent.”

I retreated to my tent to change into my hunting outfit, and then made a makeshift handkerchief out of some fabric from the inside of my winter jacket. Vain or not, I was sure most people wouldn’t want to walk around with a visible neck scar. Obviously my reasoning was _because_ I was vain; I couldn’t _not_ be vain. If my face ever got scarred, that would be the end, wouldn’t it? I’d still be able to act vain but others may not have reacted to it how they did already.

“Well, if it ain’t the future Mrs MacGuire,” Sean chuckled when he caught me walking past him.  
“Keep hoping,” I replied.  
He sidled up next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “What’s this about coverin’ your neck, eh?”  
“I don’t want people seeing my scar. Strangers, not strangers, whatever.”  
“Hey, it don’t matter.”  
“Sean, you wouldn’t love me if I wasn’t pretty. My scars aren’t pretty.”  
“So what? You got a few nicks here an’ there--”  
“It isn’t a few. They really are everywhere.”  
“Well, I’m missin’ teeth and you’re fine with it. Everyone is fine with it.”  
“As impossible as it seems, you can shut your mouth. Besides, you’re missing them because of fights and bounty hunters. I have my scars because the O’Driscolls wanted some enjoyment.” I looked up at him. “If you want me back so badly, maybe don’t talk about my scars.”  
“It don’t matter what I say; you’d rather stay with Charles. Bet he don’t even let ya sit on his lap when ya wanna cuddle.”

I shrugged him off of me; thankfully, he didn’t try to follow me or talk to me. Just to distract myself, I went and stood by Maple to give her a thorough brushing. Sure, there were enough people in the camp with scars on their face and wherever else, but most of them were men. Scars on women were different because they were valued by their beauty. Men didn’t have to be good looking to be appealing, necessarily, even if that was seemingly a good bonus. Charles came up behind me and brushed his hand against my arm to let me know he was there.

“You okay?” he asked. “You got that look on your face.”  
“There’s a lot on my mind,” I admitted. “Dutch saw me finish the collar on my dress and decided that I was doing it so I could run off.”  
He looked around before speaking again. “Still got that money your father left you?”  
I shoved my hand into the saddlebag and felt around. “Uh-huh.” I pulled out a carrot and fed it to Maple.  
“How things are goin’, you shouldn’t keep it in camp.”  
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll-I’ll find somewhere else to put it.” I swallowed hard and turned my whole body toward him. “Charles, you’re not a publicly affectionate person. Th-There’s nothing wrong with that and it’s one of the things I adore about you, really, but... Oh, is this even something you’re supposed to ask?”  
“Er...what are you talkin’ about, Evie?”  
“At the fire, would you let me sit on your lap?”

Charles’ expression quickly told me he was confused by my question, but then it hardened. I thought that maybe I’d overstepped something; thankfully, though, that wasn’t the case. He was the only person I could really talk to about anything and I thought I had almost messed that up.

“Do you...want to do that?” he inquired.  
“I don’t know...” I mumbled.  
“You don’t know if you wanna do it...but you asked, anyway?”  
“It was a silly question.”  
“If you want somethin’, you should ask for it. I don’t wanna make you feel like I don’t care about you or nothin’. Does it bother you I don’t hug you or anything like that out in the open?”  
“No, Charles; like I said, you being a private person is something I adore. Sean only mentioned it as a jab at us, I guess. I’ve never thought of it; I don’t even sit around the fire anymore.”  
“It’s fine if you want to. If you ever do, just tell me.”

I bit my lip and looked at the ground. Had I really worded it in a way that it sounded like I _wanted_ to do that? To any other person, perhaps it didn’t seem to be such a big deal. But it _was_ a big deal; not only for me, but for Charles, too. Dutch had always been so public when he kissed or hugged me; and so was Sean, even going as far as grabbing me from behind when I was talking to someone; Javier, less so, but still very public. I didn’t realize just how much I hated so much “publicity” until Charles. He was private in general -- the only time I ever saw him sleep was when he was laying with me. Even then, most of the time he came to bed later and left early before I even woke up.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” I murmured. “Privacy isn’t a bad thing, so...”  
“Evie, I mean it,” he replied. “Just ask.”  
“Does the camp know that we’re together?”  
“They probably do. I know some of ’em know.”

Clearly Sean knew, what with how many jabs he’d made already. I didn’t know if he was jealous or if he was just trying to get a reaction out of me that would result in my going back to him, but it wasn’t going to work. I shook my head at the thought with a sigh.

“You’ve been busier than usual lately,” I mentioned. “Is there another job soon, or...?”  
Charles looked confused again. “You mean you don’t--”

He was interrupted by Bill shouting at him from the other side of camp. Both of us looked in the direction he was calling from; he was with Dutch and Micah. I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Charles said before walking away.  
♞♞♞

The Saint Denis bank was such a beautiful bank; I couldn’t believe it. If I’d known it was so good looking, I might have just tried to get a job there rather than decide to stay back in camp. I stood near the counter, waiting to be called so I could be helped. Because of how much money Cornelius left me, I held my bag close to me. I’d never exactly been inside a bank by myself. The bank back home in Arkansas was small and quaint, and I hadn’t been in it since I was but a small child.

I was second-guessing my decision to put my father’s money in a bank, especially since the gang was in the area, and I was sure Dutch wouldn’t be the only one to try and rob it. There were other safe places to put money, wasn’t there? But those places were either in such discreet places that I may just have forgotten the location altogether or in a place that was right in front of someone and I could only hope they’d be stupid enough not to realize what was staring them in the face.

“Miss Locke?” the bank teller asked.

Just as I was walking up to the counter where he was standing, there was an explosion outside, followed by a commotion within the bank. What that commotion was, was Dutch deciding it was a good time to hold up the Saint Denis bank. Not just him, of course, but Lenny, Arthur, John and-- I looked away once I completely processed what it was that was going on. I held my bag closer to my body, jumping when someone let off a gunshot. My natural instinct somehow wasn’t to go and cower away in a corner or try to run out of the bank like the other people were doing. I had to force myself into a corner.

I’d never been on a job with anyone -- and I was glad I hadn’t. The air in the room felt tense, what with the guns trained on everyone and Dutch and Arthur screaming at the bank tellers. I wasn’t even sure if they realized I was also there, but maybe that was a good thing. If there was an opening, perhaps I’d be able to make it to an exit. That idea wouldn’t come to fruition even if the need arose -- who I deemed to be Javier covered the exit closest to me.

If I learned anything, though, it was that the explosion would have been made to distract the Saint Denis police so Dutch could get into the bank and out without drawing any attention to it. It was the perfect plan for a bank robbery -- at least, it should have been.

Arthur and Dutch weren’t in the vault for very long until things began to go south. Everything was happening so quickly, though, that I couldn’t completely make out what was wrong. It wasn’t until someone called out that it was the Pinkertons outside that I realized just how bad the situation had become. With the police distracted, how had the Pinkertons known about the bank? I was brought out of my thinking when it was mentioned that they had Hosea, and Dutch was trying to bargain with them to let him go.

Dutch looked around, clearly in a panic, when he spotted me. I didn’t know what he was thinking at first, but he rushed over to me and pulled me to my feet. Despite my struggling against him to try to make him let me go, he had such a firm grip on my arm that I thought he was going to break it. Kicking the door open in a way that would still keep him from the Pinkerton’s line of fire, he shoved me out into the street.

“Agent Milton, you let my friend go and you take Miss Locke instead!” he shouted.

It felt like my heart stopped. He was going to trade me for Hosea? With how things had been recently, why couldn’t I feel surprised? Did I really think he’d never stoop that low? Had Declan fulfilled his threatening promise to fund the Pinkertons to find me, too, to drag me back to Arkansas? If he had, I hadn’t known, but maybe somehow Dutch himself had found out about it and just chose not to tell me.

“I could just take both!” Milton shouted back.

I was in no position to run. If I tried to take off, I didn’t know how Dutch would react -- if he would call me a traitor for saving my life rather than taking Hosea’s place or shoot me himself so I couldn’t get away. Was it any wonder I didn’t know about the bank job, when I’d known about every other job? He didn’t trust me to know about it. But then what about Charles? Why hadn’t he told me about it? Even if he’d been told not to tell me, he would have told me anyway. Wouldn’t he have?

Milton shoved Hosea so far forward that he had to catch his balance on me when I held my arms out. He was sick -- almost everyone in camp knew he was. Tuberculosis was one hell of a disease, but that didn’t mean he had to die now. I could tell that, now, Hosea was confused as to why Milton let him go. I knew the reason, and I just wanted to keep holding onto Hosea so he wouldn’t turn around. He was one of the few people in camp who still saw reason and still had a good mind. If we lost him, surely things would begin to fall apart.

“Please don’t turn around,” I begged, tears welling up in my eyes.  
“Ain’t no point in putting off the inevitable, Evie,” he replied.  
“Don’t say that. If that Agent Milton is any kind of man, he won’t shoot you when your back is to him.”  
“You’re a good girl, ya hear me?”  
“Hosea--”  
“When the time comes, choose the right side.”

He forcefully made me let him go by jerking his hands out of mine. There was no time for me to reach back out for him -- he turned around and Milton immediately shot him in the chest. Even if I knew it was coming, I screamed and started to sob. I couldn’t just stand there, though, knowing Dutch would most likely start a shootout. I ran off toward the alley behind the bank to hide and try to calm down just so I could help everyone get out of the situation Dutch put them in. I knew that if I killed any government agents, it would put me on their list of people that needed to be arrested. It was risky business -- all gang life was, but the only people I’d killed before were O’Driscolls. But I needed to take that risk because the man I wanted a future with had been put in this horrifying situation. I wasn’t going to let Charles get shot.

I pulled the skirt of my dress up and grabbed my gun out of my leg holster. Everyone seemed to be doing okay on their own, but I was outside and they were stuck inside. There was no knowing if there were any other casualties or injuries. Inhaling sharply, I began to turn toward the street to help where I could -- only to come face to face with a different Pinkerton agent. I screamed again in fright and shot him square in the heart. This only made three other agents find their way to me. I shot them all in quick succession.

I hated the feeling I had in my stomach. These men were only trying to do their job -- they weren’t criminals like the O’Driscolls were or like gangs were. They were only doing what they were being paid to do. As I was thinking about how much I’d messed up, there was an explosion slightly down the alleyway. Still, I didn’t turn around or look -- I couldn’t move. I was angry with myself, disgusted. The four agents hadn’t even had their guns trained on me yet. They weren’t defenceless, no, but they hadn’t been pointing at me.

“Evie, get up here!” Arthur shouted.

I wanted to move, but I couldn’t. It was like I was frozen with fear and regret. There was nothing I could do; I heard gunshots still ricocheting off buildings and metal, people shouting, the city’s alarm bell, and footsteps.

“Evie,” Charles said, coming up behind me, “c’mon. We gotta go.”

He had to drag me toward the ladder that led to the roof where everyone was. I mindlessly climbed up, but then collapsed against the raised wall.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Lenny asked, kneeling in front of me. “You get shot?”  
“I-I-I killed...” I stammered. “I... Government agents...”  
“Get used to it, princess,” Micah told me. “We gotta go! Let’s go!”  
“She ain’t gonna move,” Charles mentioned.  
“Leave her, then!” Dutch retorted, shrugging. “It’s either just _her_ or we all get killed!”  
“You go on ahead,” Lenny suggested. “I’ll stay here with her ’til she’s fine.”  
“That ain’t a good--”  
“Dutch, just do what the kid says and _let’s go_!” Arthur snapped.

Lenny stayed with me while the others left -- he had to tell Charles that he needed to go and that he’d keep me safe. There were more gunshots, not too far from where we were. I jumped at the sound.

“We’re gonna stay put for a while and then head somewhere else,” Lenny said. “You just gotta calm down first.”  
“The-The city...” I sniffled.  
“It ain’t gonna be easy to get out, but if we gotta swim, we’ll--”  
“I-I can’t.”  
“Can’t what?”  
“Swim.”

Even if I_ could_ swim, my dress was so heavy I would sink, anyway. Lenny was doing his best to calm me down, that much I could understand. But there was no easy way to get out of the city; not after what had just happened and what currently was happening. The Pinkertons and the Saint Denis police weren’t just going to let this go just because we’d “escaped”.

“You might not, but horses can,” Lenny suggested.

Wasn’t that just as risky? Riding horses through a city on obvious lock down and then trying to get them to swim across a river? It was the only choice we had, is what it seemed. It took me a few moments, but I nodded quickly with a sniffle. Lenny then looked for a way where we could get down without being seen easily -- two people sneaking around was a lot less obvious than six people doing the same thing.

Lenny had to show me how to slide down a water spout. Even though I wasn’t very graceful about it, I made it to the bottom without messing it up. Maple was just around the corner. Both Lenny and I mounted her quickly and I pushed her to run as fast as she could through the streets. If there were any police or Pinkertons, Lenny took care of them. It wasn’t long until we came to the river. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. What if Maple got tired? What if she threw me off? I instinctively pulled on her reins to make her stop running.

“Now’s not the time to get scared, Evie,” Lenny ushered. “C’mon!”

I heard the whistles of the Saint Denis police and kicked Maple’s sides gently. She was more graceful than I was when trying to get down that water pipe. As soon as the water was shallow enough, she began running again and I turned her into the bayou. I didn’t know how we were going to hide amongst alligators, boars, and birds, but we somehow had to make it work. We soon came to what appeared to be a tiny church, where Lenny hopped down off of Maple and looked inside.

“We both can’t fit in there,” I sniffled. “N-Not comfortably at least...”  
“What other choice we got?” he wondered.  
“R-Ret-Return to camp... They w-won’t be looking for us; they’ll be looking for Dutch and--”

Saying Dutch’s name made me burst out crying even harder. Lenny walked back over to Maple and climbed back up. I calmed myself down slightly and headed back in the long direction of Shady Belle. Things weren’t even calm in Shady Belle, but it was better than in the city. Abigail looked shaken up for some reason.

“Oh, Miss Locke!” Susan gasped. “Mister Summers, you’re all right!”  
“I’m fine, Miss Grimshaw,” Lenny replied. “Evie ain’t doin’ so good.”

He helped me off of Maple and I threw my arms around Susan and sobbed like a baby. I held onto her tightly.

“I-I-I couldn’t save H-Hosea,” I cried.  
“They shot him,” Lenny said quietly. “And Dutch... He, uh...tried to give ’em Evie instead...”  
“Where’s everyone else?” Sadie asked.  
“I dunno. Hidin’ out till it all blows over?”  
“I say we wait a day or two and if they ain’t back, we move.”  
“Miss Adler, would you help Miss Locke calm down?” Susan wondered.  
“Sure.”  
“Evie killed some Pinkertons,” Lenny mentioned. “Ain’t takin’ that very well, neither.”

Sadie walked me to my tent, where she sat me down on the cot and she took a seat on one of the stools. She crossed one leg over the other with a sigh, but held my hand to comfort me. If I hadn’t been at the bank, would things have turned out differently?

“I didn’t even know,” I breathed. “The job. No one told me about it.”  
“What?” Sadie asked. “What were ya doin’ in Saint Denis, then?”

I shook my head at her and looked down. Again, she sighed, and stood up.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed,” she said, reaching for my bag.  
“No!” I snapped, holding it closely and tightly to my body.  
“Hey, I ain’t gonna steal nothin’.”

I felt awful for my outburst at her. She hadn’t deserved that. If anything, she was trying to help me and I knew she was a good person. She deserved an explanation.

“I-I was in Saint Denis at the bank because Daddy gave me a lot of money before he died,” I sniffled. “It’s scary leaving it in camp and...”  
“It’s okay,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna tell no one.”

Sean suddenly came into the tent in a huff.

“_Jesus_, you alright?” he asked.  
“Don’t just come barging in here like that!” I exclaimed. “Are you trying to scare me to death? Have we not been through enough today? For God’s sake, Sean MacGuire, learn how to make yourself known _before_ you do something like that!”  
“Kinda scared me, too,” Sadie admitted.  
“I’m sorry, Evie; I’m just worried,” Sean replied.  
“Well, good!” I sniffled. “I dunno how you or anyone else can shoot people who are just trying to do their job and not feel like hell after doing it!”  
“But ya did it...”  
“I did it because all I was thinking about was how I want a future with Charles, God dammit, and now I don’t even know if the next time I see him it’ll be when I’m burying him or if he rides back into camp!”

Sean didn’t like my reason for shooting the Pinkertons; I could see it in his face. He left without another word and I looked back at Sadie. I wiped at my eyes.

“I’m sure everythin’ is gonna be alright with Charles,” she assured me.  
♞♞♞

“It’s my fault,” I sobbed. “It’s my fault Hosea’s dead.”  
“No, it ain’t,” Abigail said, patting my back.  
“I-I told him not to turn around and-and I couldn’t grab him again quick enough.”  
“That still ain’t your fault.”

The Pinkertons had arrested John and I hadn’t even known. I thought he’d been up on the roof, too, and had escaped with Dutch and the others. I’d told her about what Dutch had done, in shoving me out of the bank. I wasn’t top priority for them since I wasn’t the one who stole from trains and banks and made a mess in Valentine and Rhodes, otherwise they may have taken me in before Milton even let Hosea go. I couldn’t save my baby, I couldn’t save my father, and then I couldn’t save Hosea. Maybe it was true that I couldn’t save everyone, just like Micah said, but it still felt like my heart was coming apart.

“It ain’t right, what Dutch done,” Abigail continued.  
“Why did no one tell me about this job?” I breathed.  
“Dutch said he’d tell ya himself.”  
“Well, he didn’t. If he had, I wouldn’t have been there.”  
“Didn’t ya tell anyone where you were goin’?”  
“I told Miss Grimshaw I was going hunting. Wh-Where’s Sadie?”  
“She’s lookin’ at a place for us to move. Strauss told her ’bout it. It’s just in case, y’know?”

As if she’d been summoned, Sadie rode back into Shady Belle. She looked tired and I quickly found out why. The place she was scoping out had been lived in already and she had to scare the inhabitants away. Apparently it was a tiny spot that had a couple different houses. It sounded like a safe enough spot for everyone to lay low long enough until something better was found.

“You eaten yet?” she asked me.

I shook my head. My appetite was lost. Abigail, Susan, and Sadie, before she took off, had tried to convince me to eat even just a bite of something. But I couldn’t bring myself to. I felt sick that I’d killed those people. Somehow, I knew I had to kill them yet at the same time I couldn’t bring myself to understand why I didn’t hesitate. No; I _did_ know why I didn’t hesitate. If I hadn’t shot them, there would have been a chance Charles would have gotten hurt, or worse. Shooting them, though, made me wonder if he was disappointed in me or not.

“Charles is back!” Mary Beth called.

I ran over to the entrance of Shady Belle and, without thinking, threw my arms around Charles. He hugged me back, but not for long. It was _only_ Charles. No one else was with him. Not Dutch. Not Arthur.

“Mister Smith, where’s everybody else?” Susan asked as I pulled away.  
“On a boat, I imagine,” Charles replied. “I distracted the Pinkertons so they could escape.”  
“What do ya think we should do?” Sadie wondered.  
“We need to move; fast.”


	30. Chapter 30

“You cryin’?” Sean asked. “It ain’t about Hosea again, is it?”  
“No,” I sniffled. “It’s not about Mister Matthews. But thanks for reminding me of him, Sean. That’s exactly what I needed.”  
“Really?”  
“No, not really! I’m crying because of my arm.”

I hated where we were. I didn’t think we could do worse than the alligator infested bayou of Shady Belle, but I was wrong. The houses of this new camp were rundown and during the day it was boiling and at night it was freezing -- worse than Shady Belle. Sadie was doing her best to make sure everyone was okay and Charles was going back and forth between our camp and the reservation of Wapiti. I didn’t know what he was doing, but when he was with us he was helping, and when he was at Wapiti he must have been helping them, too. I was doing my best to provide for the camp by hunting as much game as I could so everyone else could help around camp, but it was only two days until I began hurting.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on over here?” Sadie wondered.  
“Nothing,” I lied.  
“She’s cryin’ about her arm,” Sean mentioned before walking off.  
“Didja get bit last time you went huntin’?”  
“I wish. I don’t think anyone realizes how strong Dutch is.”  
“Er, Dutch ain’t here, sweetie.”

With a heavy sigh, I set down my needlepoint and rolled up my sleeve, albeit painfully. There was a ring around my upper arm, made entirely of bruises. Sadie stared at it for a good moment, probably not knowing what to say about it. Dutch was lucky he was gone; if he was with us, I would definitely have given him several earfuls already.

“Shit,” Sadie muttered. “When did this happen?”  
“When the Pinkertons had Mister Matthews and Dutch wanted to trade me,” I explained. “His grip was unbelievably tight; I thought he was going to break my arm.”  
“Does Charles know?”  
“I haven’t told him. Whatever he’s doing out there, I don’t want to put anything extra on his mind.”  
  
I put my sleeve back down and winced. Hopefully the pain would subside before the camp ran out of meat, otherwise I’d have to ask Sean or Lenny to go hunting. With Hosea gone and Dutch either laying at the bottom of the ocean or in a different country, no one really knew what the needed to do. Sadie, Charles, and I clearly took it upon ourselves to do the essentials. The one who came out of our situation the worst was Karen; she started drinking and she hadn’t stopped for two days, and she was _still_ going. All the things we’d been through the last few months and then losing Hosea, the camps rock, really hit her. I couldn’t blame her; things were bad.

“How you gettin’ on, Evie?” Susan asked.  
“I’m trying to hold myself together,” I said.  
“Well, Dutch’ll be back and he’ll have a plan--”  
“With all due respect, Miss Grimshaw, after what happened in Saint Denis, I’d rather he be dead somewhere than having him show back up.”  
“You best watch your mouth.”  
“Like everyone, she’s havin’ a hard time,” Sadie butted in. “Bein’ treated like somethin’ to be traded ain’t a good feelin’.”  
“If the Pinkertons had really agreed to taking me and giving Mister Matthews back, I would have thrown myself at them. It was the manner in which Dutch wanted the trade to happen.” I stood up. “Mister Matthews is still dead, I have an almost broken arm, and John is still in jail. Ask Lenny and Charles; Dutch was going to leave me to die on that rooftop.”

Susan turned on her heel and walked over to where Lenny was chopping wood. Sadie looked at me before pulling me into a hug. Beggars couldn’t be choosers; but I wanted to die and it wasn’t going to be on top of a roof or in a bayou. If Lenny hadn’t stayed back with me on the roof there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t go and put myself in harm’s way to get myself killed.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Sadie said reassuringly before leaving me.

It certainly felt like we weren’t going to be okay. Abigail was beside herself with worry, even if she tried her best to hide it; then of course there was Karen; Tilly and Mary-Beth were doing their best to get house chores done everyday; Susan was trying to keep everyone together; I didn’t even know what Kieran, Lenny, and Sean were doing to distract themselves... Without Dutch around to talk to everyone into “keeping faith”, people seemed to lack it. Hosea was _gone_ \-- after all of his warnings and pleading and trying to get Dutch away from his stupid machinations, it was all for naught. Whatever faith I had left died with Hosea, as dramatic as that sounded. The only thing keeping me with the gang at this point was my loyalty to the ladies, Sadie, Charles, and, I dared say and think it, Sean. Somehow, if Dutch managed to show up I’d keep where my loyalties now lied to myself.

“We’re gonna get John outta there,” Sadie told Abigail as I passed them. “Just gotta find a way.”  
“If it ain’t for me, do it for Jack,” Abigail replied. “The boy needs a father. How could he let this happen?”

I didn’t know if she was blaming John for going to jail or if she was blaming Dutch for not doing anything to stop it from happening. I didn’t stop to find out. Inside the house where everyone slept, Strauss was looking over the ledger.

“How are the camp funds?” I wondered.  
“It has seen better days, Miss Locke,” he admitted. “We have very little money for medicine if anything should happen, we are low on camp ammunition and--”  
“Give me a moment, will you?”

I went back out to where the horses were grazing. From Maple’s saddlebag, I took out some money from what my father had left me. When I made it back to Strauss and held it out to him, he didn’t take it right away.

“Just money left over from when I worked in the saloons,” I lied, shoving it into his hands. “Take it. This camp can’t struggle anymore than it already is.”  
“How generous of you, Miss Locke,” he said.

I sat down on one of the beds with a quiet sigh. Before I could lay down, Swanson came in looking a bit nervous.

“Miss Locke, I heard you’re in some pain,” he said. “I... Our situation has opened my eyes and I have no need for morphine anymore. Do you want the last of it for your pain? It’s only one dose.”  
“Good job, Reverend,” I praised. “That’s a good step for you to take. I suppose I’ll take it.”  
♞♞♞

“It’s been over a month,” I sighed. “It’s getting a little bit more difficult for me to believe they’re coming back.”  
“You want any of them to come back?” Sadie wondered.  
“Arthur.” I thought for a moment. “Javier, too, I suppose.”  
“You doin’ okay otherwise?”  
“My arm isn’t bruised anymore and it doesn’t hurt, so I’m fine. I just, um... Sadie, it’s Daddy’s birthday.”

She blinked at me and then looked down at her gun that she’d been cleaning. It looked like she was thinking. Earlier in the day she had caught me crying and I’d insisted that it was nothing; but really, I was crying because I missed my father.

“You should go visit,” she told me. “Go on. I ain’t gonna tell no one.”  
“Just let Charles know for me when he gets back,” I replied. “I’m taking my tent.”  
“Of course.”

The gang as a whole didn’t celebrate birthdays, but I needed to remember my father’s. I still wanted to feel like he was around, somehow. Maybe the afterlife was real and our loved ones were still watching over us; we just couldn’t see them. My birthday had come and gone and I’d not told a soul about it. The spot where my father was buried wasn’t too far away; he was buried near the ocean where it was peaceful and quiet, with his compass laying atop the mounded dirt.

While I hitched up my tent, Maple laid down next to his grave. What a horrible way she had to see Cornelius for the last time. She’d always been my horse, but he was the one who bought her for me; if I hadn’t brought her with me to Blackwater, she surely would have become my father’s. She had to have missed him as much as I did. I was so upset; even if people told me it wasn’t my fault he was dead, I still blamed myself. There was no way around it. He was with us because of me. If I’d just stayed with him in Arkansas instead of being selfish, things would have been fine for him. But...no.

I put the blame on myself and Bonnie -- but mostly myself. It went without saying that, even if she was dead, I hated her even more. Cornelius being a scapegoat for her had merely been opportunistic. She wouldn’t have used him like that if he’d still been at home. I didn’t know how bad things had become with Colm but they had so clearly been bad enough that she thought giving him someone in her stead would satiate him. She’d probably gone and tried to rat him out to the police and he caught wind of it.

Cornelius loved her. I couldn’t imagine how much it hurt him to look at me, being the spitting image of someone who couldn’t stay in a better life. He’d loved her more than he loved me; of course, he never would have said so. Bonnie had been his _wife_ \-- if he hadn’t loved her, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep her away from a life of being an outlaw. There was truth in her words when she said she loved him, too, but it wasn’t enough. How could anyone who loved someone do what she did? I didn’t care how bad things could get; I never would sold Charles and Sean out -- not even Javier. I’d never sell anyone out.

Maple suddenly stood up, which made me look back. Much to my chagrin, we weren’t alone. Agent Milton and another Pinkerton were slowly approaching. I didn’t want to appear hostile, so I stayed sitting where I was. I was fearful, though; were they going to take me to jail for killing those Pinkertons or were they going to drag me to wherever Declan was? Or were they going to question me like they had questioned Arthur when we were still situated near Valentine?

“Miss Tessa Locke,” Agent Milton said.  
“Evangeline, please.” I swallowed hard, nervous. “Can I help you?”  
“Considering your extensive history of being alone, should you be out here by your lonesome?”  
“I’ve not had many issues lately.”  
“What are you doing out here?” the other Pinkerton asked.  
“Don’t worry; this is Agent Ross,” Agent Milton explained.  
“I’m just visiting my daddy’s grave,” I replied. “Before you ask, no; no one in Mister van der Linde’s gang killed him. It was Colm O’Driscoll.”

Agent Milton rolled his eyes and held his hand out to me. With a sigh, I took it and he helped me to my feet. That was all, though; there was no lugging me back to their horses or hogtying me to keep me from running away. Agent Ross must have only been there to scare me; he was the only two of them holding a shotgun.

“Dutch van der Linde is the one we want,” Agent Milton admitted. “Of course, somewhere along the line something will have to be done about what happened in Saint Denis and those agents you shot.”  
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I said. “I was scared, alright? You’d just shot Mister Matthews in front of me and Mister van der Linde tried to trade me.”  
“Do you know his whereabouts?”  
“I’m hoping he’s laying at the bottom of the ocean.”

The agents looked at each other. It appeared that they hadn’t been expecting such a harsh answer. My answer was genuine; after what happened in Saint Denis, I couldn’t let it go. Add on the events from Blackwater all the way up until Jack was kidnapped, my faith in Dutch had shattered. He’d not even told me about the bank robbery; everyone else had known about it apart from me. Sadie had even told me that Dutch said that he’d tell me; no one else had to.

“Don’t you people think of him as some sort of messiah?” Agent Milton wondered.  
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied. “He roped me in with his stories and made me think he loved me, but that’s long over.”  
“Well, tell you what. You tell us if and when he gets back from wherever he went and we’ll forgive what you did in Saint Denis. All you’d have to tell us is where your camp is.”

I stared at him. He was asking me not only to tell him about Dutch, but to put everyone else in danger? Who did this man think he _was_? I looked from him, to Agent Ross, and then back to him. I couldn’t do that to the camp. Sean, Lenny, Jack, Abigail -- all of them would be in danger. I wasn’t about to allow that to happen, even if I thought Dutch and Micah were equally as bad for the camp.

“Agent Milton,” I folded my arms across my chest, “while I don’t exactly care what happens to Mister van der Linde, I care about what happens to everyone else.”  
“None of you are innocent, Miss Locke,” Agent Ross shot back.  
“You don’t need to tell me twice.”  
“Your loyalty will be the death of you,” Agent Milton said.  
“I’m not being loyal to Mister van der Linde. Please, make no mistake about that. But if you want someone to rat out where we’re camping, you’re going to have to look at someone else.”  
“We’re already looking at someone else. Anyway...Mister O’Malley wants us to bring you to him.”  
“I thought so when you said you could just take both Mister Matthews and I. Declan is in over his head. He knows I won’t love him and after the last time I saw him it definitely will never happen.”  
“We’ll be seeing you.”

I waited until they were gone to go over to Maple and hug her. That had certainly been a scary experience, but at least they were leaving me alone for the time being. What did Agent Milton mean when he said they were looking at someone else? Surely no one in camp would give us up? Even if that was the case, I couldn’t think that any of them would do such a thing. I was brought out of my thinking when thunder clapped; it was beginning to rain. After what had just happened, it certainly felt ominous. I moved Maple to a spot where she wouldn’t get too wet and I retreated to my tent for the night.  
♞♞♞

Riding into camp the next morning, it looked like a war had come through. That was incredibly confusing. I hitched Maple up to go and find Sadie or Charles, but instead I found Javier. Thinking that perhaps I was still tired, I shook my head and blinked a few times. I wasn’t seeing things; Javier really was in camp.

“Hey, _amiga_,” he said when he turned around.  
“What are you doing here?” I blurted.  
“That ain’t no way to greet someone.”  
“I’m sorry; I-I just--”  
“C’mere.”

He pulled me into a hug; I returned it immediately, wrapping my arms around him tightly. Well, at least he was back, safe and sound. It was a moment before I pulled away and mentioned that I needed to find Sadie; Javier needed to tell me something, but I just waved him off and told him to tell me later. I walked into the house where everyone slept, looking behind me slightly.

“Hey,” Sadie mused.  
“What the hell happened out--” I began, turning to look at her.

Javier wasn’t the only one who was back; Dutch and Micah were back, too. It felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. I hadn’t wanted either of them to return and, yet, there they were, sitting with Sadie. Dutch looked horrible. He clearly had cleaned himself up, but there was no hiding how tired and stressed out he looked. And Micah... Well, Micah could go jump in the bayou water for all I cared. I swallowed hard, nervous, as Dutch stood up. To distract myself, I looked at Sadie.

“What happened outside?” I wondered.  
“Pinkertons,” Dutch said, his voice sour and accusatory.  
“What?”  
“Where were you last night? Sure as hell weren’t here.”

Sadie quickly came to my side. She and I both knew full well what Dutch was trying to accuse me of. If the Pinkertons bushwhacked the camp and I hadn’t been in the camp, of course he would think it was a coincidence. But they told me they were looking at someone else -- whoever it was must have talked to them. Somehow, Dutch was scarier than I remembered. I’d maybe gotten too comfortable without him around and it was catching up with me. Or whatever happened wherever they had been must have done something else to him. Either way, I was scared.

“I didn’t talk to the Pinkertons,” I told him.

With how angry he was, I wasn’t going to tell him that I had, in fact, spoken to Agent Milton and Agent Ross, but I hadn’t agreed to their “terms”. He stepped closer to me; he didn't believe me. Why should he have believe me when he didn’t even trust me enough to tell me about a job? I thought that he was going to kill me for “breaking the rules”.

“Then where were you, princess?” Micah demanded.  
“Where were _you_?” I retorted.  
“This ain’t about us,” Dutch snapped. “If you wasn’t talkin’ to Pinkertons, then _where.the.hell.were.you_?”  
“None of your business.”

Dutch really wasn’t himself anymore, was he? But it didn’t matter. He had no right to interrogate me and blame an attack on me; not when he was gone for a month. I realized the gang was his, but there was still no reason for me to get mad at me. I jumped when he shot the ceiling to get an answer out of me.

“Dutch, you don’t gotta do that,” Sadie said quietly.  
“Seems suspicious to me, Dutch,” Micah chimed in.  
“I didn’t talk to the Pinkertons!” I repeated.  
“You know the rules, Miss Locke,” Dutch growled.  
“Shoot me, then.” I shrugged, tearing up. “Go ahead.”

Sadie put herself in between the two of us with an annoyed sigh.

“Mrs Adler, move outta the way,” Dutch demanded.  
“It really ain’t what ya think,” she huffed.  
“Just let him do it, Sadie,” I sniffled. “If he wants to believe that I would put everyone in danger, let him do it.”  
“Move it,” Micah said.  
“She was visitin’ her daddy’s grave!” Sadie snapped. “Jesus, the last thing she would do is put this gang in danger. She didn’t want me to tell no one but Charles.”

Even if she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, she did so for my benefit. She wasn’t just going to stand aside and let me get shot, even if I wanted to. I was almost regretting not agreeing to Agent Milton’s idea. What I would change, though, is that I’d take Dutch to him. I wasn’t sure how I would do it, but I’d have to make it work somehow.

“She ain’t gonna do somethin’ so stupid,” Sadie told Dutch.

He seemed to think it over for a moment, conflicted. Finally, he holstered his gun with a quiet growl. I could see that he was still angry, but that was the least of my concerns now. I was close to crying because of how scared I was of him. One wrong move and he could snap, couldn’t he? Now that he was back, I could probably justify being outside of camp for long periods of time and make it seem like I was hunting or out making money.

“We don’t keep secrets from each other,” he said.  
“You mean like how you kept the bank job a secret from me?” I sniffled. “Or how you knew that Declan had the Pinkertons on me, too? I was the only one who didn’t know about the job.”

I turned on my heel and stormed out of the house. If Dutch was going to be sleeping in the house with everyone else, I was going to put my tent back up. I tried my best not to cry as I set myself back up, but Arthur wandered by and noticed.

“Everythin’ okay?” he asked.  
I looked at him before throwing my arms around him. “Arthur, I’m so glad to see you!” I sobbed.  
“Ya didn’t miss me that much, didja?”  
“Oh, things have been so difficult and after what happened in Saint Denis...”  
“Yeah. That weren’t good.”  
“What happened when you left Lenny and I?”  
“Well, to make a long story short, we ended up on Guarma.”  
“Near Cuba? Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine, but Dutch... Dutch is...”

Arthur looked around and grabbed me before pulling me into my tent. For the first time, I learned what happened with Angelo Bronte, and how Dutch had impulsively drowned him in the bayou waters before feeding him to an alligator. He then also killed an old woman in Guarma, who he’d been convinced was going to sell them out after leading Arthur and himself through a cave. That woman had been innocent -- impatient and pushy, but innocent. First it was that young lady in Blackwater, then Angelo Bronte, and then an old woman? Angelo Bronte was a bad man, yes, but according to Arthur he had been completely unarmed and tied up; not at all threatening.

“Whatchu cryin’ for?” Arthur wondered. “You and Sean have another fight?”  
“Dutch thought I told the Pinkertons where we are,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “He almost shot me because I didn’t want him to know I was camping at Daddy’s grave last night. Sadie had to tell him since I wasn’t going to.”  
“Oh, that’s-that’s--”  
“I know I should have told him myself. Visiting Daddy was something I wanted to keep to myself and the only reason Sadie and Charles knew is because I needed _someone_ to know, right? It was his birthday yesterday and-and every year we celebrated it. Mine came and went and I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t ignore his.”  
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with goin’ to see him, Evie.” Arthur thought for a moment. “How old are ya now, then?”  
“Twenty-five. You should go talk to Dutch or something. I don’t--I don’t know what we’re going to do. We can’t stay here, can we?”  
“Not after last night, no.”

Just as he turned to leave, I spoke up again. I couldn’t believe I forgot to ask.

“No one got hurt last night, did they?” I inquired.  
“Spooked, yes,” he replied. “But no one got themselves shot or killed. Y’know, now that I’m thinkin’ about it... How’re ya really doin’? Hosea...”  
I inhaled sharply to keep my tears back. “He didn’t listen to me when I asked him to stay looking at me. There was nothing I could do. I know he was on borrowed time, but...but I still...”  
“He wouldn’t want you blamin’ yourself, I don’t think.”  
“Mister Matthews is the one who should still be here. Not me.”  
“What Dutch did at that bank, tryin’ to trade you... That weren’t right.”  
“You should go talk to him now.”

I stayed standing in my tent for a good few moments before wandering back outside. Where were we going to go next? It felt like we were being pushed to a place where it would be difficult for anyone to escape.

“Hey,” Charles said, walking up to me. “What’s going on? You okay?”  
“No,” I muttered.  
“Sorry I ain’t been around much.”  
“You don’t need to apologize. You’re helping out that reservation.”  
“We got our own problems, though.”  
“You’re a good man, Charles. We have problems, but we have more resources than them somehow. I’m sure they appreciate your help.”  
“I ain’t that good.”  
“Don’t say that. If you weren’t doing this out of the goodness of your heart, you wouldn’t be doing it at all. Most other people would ask for money in return or not even bother. If you refuse to believe you’re a good man, then at least believe you’re a better person than I am.”  
“Evie...”  
“I mean it. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I were to help the Indians. Most of my problems I solve by throwing money at them. I can’t throw money at their problems and hope they go away.”

No matter the situation, it honestly felt like Charles knew what to do. I didn’t know if it came from experience or if he just knew what needed to be done. That seemed like a skill all on its own. He could talk about how he wasn’t a good man all he wanted, but anyone with a decent head on their shoulders and two working eyes should have been able to see what a caring man he was. He did himself very little credit.

“Come inside,” I requested, stepping back into my tent. “I need to tell you something.”  
“This have somethin’ to do with you not being okay?” he wondered.  
“Sort of. Er... Dutch asked me if I talked to Pinkertons.”  
Charles’ expression hardened. “Why would he think that?”  
“I wasn’t in camp when they bushwhacked all of you. I told him I didn’t talk to them, but...I did.”  
“But you didn’t give us away.”  
“No, no, I didn’t. They wanted me to; even said I’d be pardoned from the agents I shot in Saint Denis if I gave them Dutch. Apparently they were looking at someone else to rat us out.”  
Charles sighed. “Great.”  
“I’m scared; I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it can’t be anything good. Before Mister Matthews died, he...told me to pick the right side.”  
“You will.” He pulled me into a hug. “We’re gonna be havin’ a party before we move camps -- wherever it is.”  
“I could use a drink.”

Even though I was in no mood to join a party, I still wanted a drink. It was a poor decision on my part, but I just needed to forget what happened in the house with Dutch, even if it was only for a little while. Knowing Charles, he wasn’t going to join the party, either. It wasn’t his thing, as he told me way back when we were in Horseshoe. It was still morning and so, considering I didn’t get a very good rest the night before, I decided to lay down to get some more sleep.

Charles stayed with me and let me get as much rest as he thought I needed. It was early evening by the time I woke up -- how had I even managed to sleep that long? I couldn’t be mad, though. I must have appeared even more tired than I let on. I stayed laying on my cot, though, waiting until Dutch had a few whiskeys in him.

“You really didn’t want ’em back, did you?” Charles asked.  
“Arthur and Javier I was fine with,” I mumbled. “If it hadn’t been for what happened in Saint Denis, maybe I’d have been okay with Dutch.”  
“Don’t you think it’s time for you to go?”  
I quickly got up, panicked. “Where would I go at this point?”  
“You can’t just stay because of me and Sean, y’know.”  
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come back from camping at all.”  
“You’re always talkin’ about how you want other people to be safe. You feel safe here?”

I didn’t feel as safe as I had before. Arthur was back, so I felt a little bit safer, and because Charles was around I knew he’d protect me as best he could. It was wrong of me to depend on him so much -- to depend on many people so much -- but that’s just the way it was.

“Very little,” I admitted quietly.  
“Evie, you know I love you, but I really want you to think about this,” Charles said, blunt. “You need to figure out a place to go to once shit gets bad.”

I nodded, and he kissed me on the forehead before leaving. It was a few more minutes until I left the tent to grab the drink I wanted. Karen was still drunk and Sean was already drunk. Dutch seemed to be in a slightly better mood at least and didn’t try to talk to me when I wandered past him.

“How you doin’, Evie?” Javier asked, already a bit tipsy himself.  
“Could be better,” I replied, opening the whiskey bottle I had grabbed.  
“So, uh, you and Charles...you still with him?”  
“Yes.”  
“Damn; and here I was hoping to see you now that I’m back.”  
“Go grab your guitar and shut up.”  
“_Ay_, I get so turned on when you insult me, _mi amor_.”  
“Shut up.”

I stormed off to drink in peace. What was supposed to be one drink, though, turned into two, and then into three, and then somehow I ended up with five whiskeys in me. My vision was blurry and while I was walking around to go and get another bottle, Micah stopped me. I was clearly drunk and out of my mind, and I couldn’t even walk straight.

“Don’t...touch...me...” I grumbled.  
“C’mon, princess, let’s get you to bed,” he told me, having a firm grip on my arm.  
“I can get to bed on my own.”  
“I _insist_, Evangeline.”  
“Keep my name out of your stupid face hole, you less-than-vermin--”

I fell on top of my cot, unable to finish my sentence.  
♞♞♞

I woke up in the morning in pain -- and it wasn’t just because I had a headache. My stomach hurt, as did my legs and my groin. I tried moving quickly, but that only seemed to make the pain worse. I stumbled out of my tent and over to the treeline to vomit. The pain from my lower body was harsh enough that I wasn’t only vomiting because of the alcohol I had consumed the night before or because of the headache.

“Evie, what are ya doin’ down there?” Sadie asked.

I was keeled over on the ground with my arms wrapped around my stomach as I was sick. No one just got on the ground how I was unless it was serious.

“Shit, you okay?” she snapped, rushing over to me and flicking her cigarette away. “Jesus, you’re burnin’ up real bad.”  
“Go get Charles for me,” I gasped.  
“I think I’d better get ya to a doctor or somethin’--”  
“Sadie, please!”

She sighed and ran toward the house where everyone slept. I knew it couldn’t be what I was thinking, but I just needed to confirm with Charles. He’d never do anything to hurt me intentionally and I didn’t want to doubt him. Maybe he’d chosen to get a few drinks into him during the party and he ended up taking me to bed. I pulled the skirt of my dress up slightly; my thighs were covered in bruises.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, Sadie trailing behind him.  
“Did-Did we do anything last night?” I asked as I leaned against a tree.  
“You know I’d never touch you when you’re like that.”  
“So you didn’t drink?”  
“No. I kept watch.”  
“Well, _someone_ needs to explain why I’m in so much pain down here!”

Sadie and Charles looked at each other. They both seemed to suddenly know something that I didn’t. While he went over to the house, she stayed with me. I wasn’t too sure what was wrong, but it was bad. It had been a long time since I’d seen Charles walk with such intensity. I looked at Sadie before jumping at the sound of the house’s door bursting back open. There was Micah, laying on the ground outside -- Charles had just thrown him out.

“N-No,” I stammered. “Sadie, no--”  
“He’s the only one in this damn camp who has the nerve to do somethin’ so... There ain’t no word for it,” Sadie growled.

Charles and Micah got into it. For the most part, it was Micah yelling at Charles and Charles continuously punching or laying Micah out. No one tried to stop them for the longest time; not until Micah pulled his gun out on Charles and Dutch came storming out of the house.

“What in the hell is goin’ on out here?” he shouted.  
“Ain’t nothin’ to worry about,” Micah sighed, sounding like he didn’t just go through possibly one of the worst beatings of his life.  
“He touched Evie,” Charles said. “He was sober all last night and she was drunk.”

Just hearing those words made me begin vomiting again. Sadie held my hair back as I did so. I could have killed Micah right then and there myself, but that would only cause more problems. Besides, I could barely stand up anymore. I sobbed so hard it was almost wailing.

“Clearly it was a mistake,” Dutch decided.  
“That’s all it was,” Micah agreed, his voice condescending.  
“Bullshit,” Sean barked at him. “Ain’t no way Evie would sleep with ya sober or drunk.”  
“If she don’t wanna be treated like a whore, maybe she should stop actin’ like one.”

I heard the impact of Charles punching him again. As I stood back up, exhausted, Dutch walked over to where Sadie and I were. He reached out to touch my shoulder, but I stepped back.

“You don’t touch me,” I sniffled.  
“Mrs Adler, take Miss Locke into town and get her cleaned up,” he said.  
“How dare you say that it was a mistake, Dutch van der Linde?!”  
“Listen, it ain’t like no one knows what you’re like when you been drinkin’. You don’t remember nothin’.”  
“I wish Mister Matthews was here instead of _you_.”

Sadie shook her head and led me over to Bob; I was in no position to get up onto Maple. Once on top of Bob, I was tempted to just kick Dutch in the face. But he walked off back to where Sean and Javier were chewing Micah out for what he did. From what I was able to tell, Micah kept trying to walk away, but the two of them kept shoving him backward so they could continue ripping him a new one.

“I shouldn’t have drank,” I said shakily.  
“Hey, no blamin’ yourself,” Sadie protested. “Camp’s supposed to be a safe place and--”  
“Camp has never been a safe place. Not in Blackwater, not in Colter, not in Horseshoe... Nowhere.”  
“Well, we’re gonna make sure Micah never puts his hands on you again. If I gotta chop ’em off, I will...if Charles don’t beat me to it. For now, we’re gonna get ya a nice, hot bath, okay?”


	31. Chapter 31

I stormed over to the campfire, my dress bundled up in my arms. Once I made it to where I was going, I shoved Bill out of the way and tossed the dress in. I didn’t care if it was nice; it wasn’t anymore, not to me. Not after what Micah chose to do to me while I was wearing it. I would have burned my whole tent down if it weren’t for the buffalo blanket Charles had made for me. Granted, I could have just taken that out before setting it on fire, but there was no way I was going to sleep in the house with everyone else, and I had to make it appear that I had no money left. I’d given Strauss some money under the impression it was the last of what I had and I didn’t want him saying anything to Dutch.

“You wanna sit?” Sean asked, holding his hand out to me.  
“Not really,” I replied, scratching my arms. “Have you seen Charles?”  
“Uh, I think he went with Arthur to look at a new camp.”  
“Okay.”

I walked around the camp to be by myself for a moment or two. Instead, I walked by where Dutch was sitting and it sounded like he was talking to himself. He took one look at me and stood up, stopping me from turning the other way so I could go back the way I’d come from.

“How’re you gettin’ on?” he asked, grabbing my shoulder.  
I immediately shrugged him off. “How do you _think_?”  
“I still ain’t a mind reader.”  
“You don’t need to be a mind reader to think how a woman feels after being...after being violated.”  
“It was a _mistake_.”  
“No.” I pointed my index finger at him, my voice shaking. “No. A _mistake_ is missing a shot on a deer. A _mistake_ is sewing the hole of a sock shut. A _mistake_ is dropping the whole bucket of chicken feed. What Micah did _was not_ a mistake. Ever since I arrived to Blackwater, all he’s wanted to do is get in my sheets. You know that. _Everyone_ knows that.”  
“Now, Evie, like I said, everyone knows what you’re like when you’ve been drinkin’--”  
“I came onto someone while I was drunk who I wasn’t supposed to _once_. _Once,_ Mister van der Linde. Kieran didn’t want to hurt me by pulling away hard or shoving me. I didn’t wake up in pain. He regretted it, but do you think Micah regrets it? Just because I can’t _remember_ what happened last night doesn’t mean I don’t know what happened last night.” I stepped closer to Dutch. “That less-than-vermin son of a bitch doesn’t regret _anything_.”  
“You really know how to hold a grudge.”

I sniffled, nodding. I’d hold onto that grudge and hatred for Micah, and Dutch for allowing him to stay, for a long time, if not until the day I died. He tried to grab my shoulder again, but like before I shrugged him off and stepped back again. Swallowing hard, I wiped the tears off my cheeks.

“Your mother having you was another mistake,” I sniffled.  
“Okay, Evangeline,” Dutch muttered. “You’ll be fine; this family always turns out fi--”  
“This is barely a family anymore! If it is, you’re a horrible head of family! You’re not the same person I met. _That person_ I met would have gotten John out of jail already or would care about what Micah did to me.”

I stormed off, scratching at my arms again. Rather than hiding in my tent, I went back over to the campfire and, without thinking, sat on Sean’s lap. All he did was wrap an arm around me when I leaned against him. I wanted to go into my tent to be alone and to hide, but at the same time I couldn’t bring myself to do that. It was probably best for my state of mind to stay out of my tent when Charles wasn’t around to be in there with me.

Nothing felt right. John wasn’t with Abigail and Jack. Hosea wasn’t there anymore. I no longer felt safe in my own tent. Dutch wasn’t the same Dutch I almost had a baby with. Maybe Hosea was right to tell me to choose the right side when it was time to do so. I had no idea if that was going to be months away or the next day. Either way, I knew where my loyalties were and who they were with. If I had to go against somebody I loved, I couldn’t let that blind me. I wasn’t the only person in camp to doubt the way Dutch had been behaving, but perhaps I was the only one making it obvious.

“Comfortable, princess?” Micah asked, taking a seat across from Sean and I.  
“Keep your mouth shut, ya greasy turd,” Sean spat back.  
“Least now I know why you and the greaser are jealous about her bein’ with the redskin.”

Sean threw the whiskey bottle he was holding right at Micah’s head. It didn’t smash, but the impact definitely sounded painful. Javier came walking by to grab his guitar when Micah made another comment about my being a whore.

“Surprised no one’s chopped your dick off yet,” he said. “Feed it to the gators.”  
“Big words for someone who ain’t that good in bed,” Micah chuckled.  
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were a _pansy_.”

Micah’s cocky smile faded and he looked over at Javier. That comment had struck a chord in him.

“The fuck didja just call me, _greaser_?” he asked, standing up.  
“You deaf or somethin’, _pansy_?” Javier picked up his guitar. “A man who ain’t a pansy and ain’t okay with it don’t go around raping defenceless girls. I can see you’re angry about it.”  
“I finished her off fine, unlike _you_.”

I immediately pushed myself off of Sean and kicked Micah off the log he was sitting on. Thanks to my decision of wearing my heeled shoes, I stomped him as hard as I could in his groin and then proceeded to kick him in his side and his face a few times. All the while that was happening, Javier and Sean were talking as if nothing was happening to Micah in front of them. Finally, I kicked him in the face before storming over to my tent. Sean chased after me, probably thinking I was going to hurt myself. I wasn’t, though; instead, I stood at the front of my tent, mindlessly scratching my arms, while staring at my cot. He stood next to me, looking from me, to my cot, and back to me a few times.

I was trying so hard to remember what happened while I was drunk. Maybe all I needed to do was just relax a little and think. It wasn’t long until I did begin to remember. As I knew already, I’d been drunk. Micah had insisted on “helping” me back to my tent. I’d began insulting him as usual before falling on top of my cot, exhausted. The next thing I remembered was waking up on my back with him on top of me. It had taken me a few seconds to realize what was happening, but when I started panicking he placed his hand firmly over my mouth and telling me to keep quiet, that it would be over soon. Just like he said to Javier, Micah _did_ manage to finish me off. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know how it could happen. But it happened.

“Sean...” I mumbled.  
“Yeah?”  
I sighed. “Sean, if there really is a God, why would...” I looked up at him. “Why would He allow people like Micah to exist?”  
“It’s got somethin’ to do with that free will stuff that the Bible talks about, yeah?”  
“I don’t understand how anyone could act that way.”  
“Me neither, and I don’t get why Dutch is lettin’ that greasy turd stay.”

I looked back at the cot and I began to feel incredibly angry. Sean was right; why _would_ Dutch allow Micah to stay after everything? If taking advantage of a drunk woman wasn’t the last straw, then what was? I took the bison blanket off of my cot and placed it on one of the stools. Sean moved out of the way as I pulled the cot outside. I didn’t care if I didn’t have a cot to sleep on anymore; I couldn’t stand the sight of this one any longer. I felt around in my pockets for my father’s lighter. Once I found it, I looked toward the house.

“Evie--” Sean began.  
“Do we have any moonshine?” I wondered.  
“I think Dutch was savin’ it for later.”  
“It’s not like I’m going to use all of it. Where is it?”  
“I’ll get it for ya.”

It didn’t take Sean long to return to me with his tin cup filled almost to the brim with moonshine. He went ahead for me and doused the cot, just enough that it would light up and burn. I lit the cot and wandered off back to the campfire with Sean trailing behind me.

“Quite a kick ya got there, princess,” Micah said, holding his jaw.  
“Next time I’ll ask someone to _castrate_ you, you son of a whore,” I snapped.  
“Hey, Dutch! Evie started a fire!”

I sat down on the log and folded my arms across my chest and one leg over the other. Dutch wasn’t able to put the fire out, even with Micah and Bill’s help. He stormed over to me -- really, it was almost a run -- and grabbed my arm, just like how he had done at the bank. I was dragged into the house where everyone slept; Strauss, Abigail, and Jack all had to be kicked out since Dutch wanted to speak to me alone.

“Are you _tryin_’ to bring the law back on us?” he shouted.  
“No; I only just wanted to burn the cot,” I replied, scratching my arms again.  
“Enough with the sarcasm, Miss Locke.”  
“I’m not being sarcastic, Mister van der Linde. I’m not going to sleep on the cot I was taken advantage of on.”  
“Sometimes, ya just gotta live with it.”

I stared at him. Did this man even know what he was saying to me? Micah had gotten into his head a long time ago, but it was just becoming worse. Pair that with the bump on his head from the trolley and he was really becoming someone unrecognizable.

“Easy for you to say,” I sniffled. “You’re not a woman who’s--”  
“_Evangeline_,” Dutch snapped, holding a hand up, “I need you to shut up and show some faith.”  
“You want faith? _You want faith_?! If you want faith, get rid of Micah after all the things he did! No one wants him here, Dutch! If it was you who had died in Saint Denis and Mister Matthews was still here, he’d have gotten rid of that parasite a long time ago! You want faith? Fucking _earn it _because my _faith _sure as hell isn't free!”

I kicked the door open just as Charles was riding back into camp. He didn’t look too pleased.

“I dunno what Dutch is thinkin’,” he told me. “The new camp is right next to a cave in Murfree Brood country.”  
“‘Murfree Brood’?” I asked as I wiped at my eyes.  
“It’s...best I don’t tell you what that means. Arthur’s gone to take a girl we found home; he should be back by the time we get up there. Where’s Dutch?”  
“In the house.”  
“Is that your cot on fire?”  
“Yes...”  
“We’ll talk more when we’re moved, okay?”

I nodded as he kissed the side of my head. With a sigh, I went to my tent to pack it up. Just as I was finishing up -- since I didn’t have much in the first place -- Sean came in.

“Would ya run away with me?” he asked.  
“Huh?” I blurted.  
“I said--”  
“I heard what you said, Sean. What do you mean run away?”  
“Don’t it sound like what it means?”

Sean must have been getting fed up with everything going on, too -- his shoulder, Micah, Shady Belle, Saint Denis, Micah, Hosea’s death, camps that were becoming worse and worse, Dutch’s decisions... As much as I cared about Sean, I’d never had expected him to ask me that kind of question. I thought he was incredibly loyal to Dutch.

“I ain’t your--” he began to continue, but he was interrupted by Dutch shouting that we were moving.

I took my tent down and stored it on Maple’s back with the rest of my things. However far this new camp was, I hoped it was far enough from any trouble. But hope was one thing -- reality was a whole other thing. Wherever we seemed to go nowadays, Dutch and Micah were followed by trouble. Sean was in the right to ask me to run away with him. But I couldn’t. Not yet. He was certainly one of the people I was staying around for -- but not the only one. If I was going to run away with anybody, I needed to make sure that everyone I cared for in camp would be safe. If that meant giving them some of my father’s money or taking them with me, then that’s what I would do.

Just like Charles said, the new camp was next to a cave. Right in front of a cave, actually. The area surrounding it didn’t seem very safe. I could swear I saw a hanging body in the trees as we travelled to the camp. There were even bear traps spread strategically in the forest. When we were nearly finished setting up, Arthur rode in. I was minding my own business as he and Dutch spoke, when Dutch grabbed my attention.

“_Miss Locke_ seems to be questionin’ her faith,” he said.  
Arthur looked at me and then back at Dutch. “She’s still here, ain’t she? Means she’s still loyal, too.”  
“Don’t pick on me for being uncomfortable, Mister van der Linde,” I muttered.  
“Look, ya can’t blame her for how she’s feelin’. Micah ain’t makin’ her situation better.”  
“She burned her cot right in camp,” Dutch replied. “Big enough that if the law saw it--”  
“I’d burn mine, too, if Micah did that to me,” Abigail said as she wandered by.

I went over to Maple to take the bison blanket off of her when Charles came up to me.

“You wanna come with me?” he asked.  
“Where to?” I wondered, carrying the blanket back to my tent.  
He followed close behind me. “To the reservation. Seems like you need a break from camp.”  
“Will they be okay with me there? I’m...”  
“Just be respectful. They ain’t savages.”

I felt my face begin to burn up from embarrassment. Had I come across that I didn’t want to go because I thought they were savages? Of course I knew they weren’t -- from what I understood, most of them, if not all of them, weren’t. The wars fought between the Indians and the army weren’t exactly _their_ fault, right?

“I...I didn’t mean it like that...” I mumbled.  
“I know,” Charles said. “They’re upset about everythin’ that’s been goin’ on, but they won’t take their anger out on you. You didn’t do nothin’ to them.”  
“I’ll come, if they’ll have me.”  
“It’s almost a days journey. We’re gonna have to camp when night comes.”

I nodded, set the blanket down on a stool in my tent, and went to mount Maple. Sean was keeping watch and looked back at me.

“Alright?” he said.  
“Could be better,” I admitted.  
“Be careful out there, would ya? There’s some fucked up people ’round here.”  
“Worse than Micah?”  
“I ain’t jokin’, Evie.”  
I relaxed my face. “I’m sorry.”  
“And it ain’t a joke what I told ya earlier, neither.”  
“What ain’t a joke?” Javier wondered as he came to take Sean’s place.  
“He told me I need to stop being so hard on myself,” I lied.  
“Let’s head out!” Charles called.

I gently kicked Maple’s sides and followed Charles out of camp. I never knew just how far the Wapiti Reservation was until he told me how long it would take us. Dutch hadn’t even been back for long yet I already felt like he was suffocating not only me, but the entire camp. He still was talking about Tahiti and needing money, but what was the point anymore? It must have been coming to the point where the Pinkertons would chase us down to the ends of the earth if given the chance. Karen still just kept drinking and Mary Beth always had her nose in a book. Tilly was doing her best to keep her head down and Susan still had so much faith in Dutch. Abigail needed to take Jack and run away, with or without John. I didn’t even know what Sadie was still doing with us.

We must have been riding for several hours before Charles made note that the sun was setting. He found a good spot to set up camp and cooked up some fish for us. I’d never had fish other than the ones used in Pearson’s stew, but Pearson’s cooking was so bad no one could tell _what_ it was until he told us. Charles’ cooking, at least to me, was better. Then again, before joining the gang he’d been on his own and would have had to make his own meals if he couldn’t get into a saloon for food. Beth’s cooking was much better, obviously, but it had been such a long time since I had something that tasted good. I gave what I couldn’t finish to Charles, grabbed my canteen of water, and headed over to Maple. Even when I travelled I brushed my teeth. It was one habit I couldn’t let go of and it always confused most people.

“Hey, Evie?” Charles asked.  
“What is it?” I replied after spitting the water out.  
“You think it might be time for you to leave?”

I understood why he was asking. It didn’t take a genius to understand why he would ask such a question.

“I should,” I murmured, wandering around to the other side of Maple.  
“‘But’...?”  
“But I can’t. Not yet, at least. I can start making preparations to leave. Send a letter to Beth, let her know I’m coming home, or...buy a house elsewhere...”  
“I know you’re stayin’ because of some of us. Even if I can’t come with you, you gotta go.”  
“Sean...asked me to run away with him.”  
“And you didn’t?”

I shrugged as I sat back down next to him.

“Evie...” Charles sighed.  
“I know you want me to be safe, but I want _you_ to be safe, too,” I told him. “Would you run off with me if I asked?”  
“Everything that’s going on right now, no, I wouldn’t.”  
“If you asked me right now to leave with you, I would.”  
“I know.”

I moved a strand of hair out of my face as I leaned over and kissed him. With that, I said goodnight and headed into the tent. I was stubborn, wasn’t I? So stubborn that, even though I didn’t feel safe, I wanted to stay just for the sake of some other people. Before Blackwater, I never would have done something like that. I would have run and saved myself. Taken Maple and never looked back. If I was going to make preparations to leave at this point, I was going to have to be extra sneaky about it. I couldn’t let Dutch or Micah find out; not even Bill or Javier, and not Susan. I wanted to trust Susan and Javier, but I knew I couldn’t.

I dimmed the lantern and laid down on my sleeping bag. For someone who hadn’t slept well in a few days, I couldn’t fall asleep. I just stared at the side of the tent, listening to the light wind outside. It was a while before Charles came in and laid down next to me.

“You need sleep,” he said quietly.  
I swallowed hard and then turned over onto my other side to face him. “Charles, do you get upset when I act so stubborn?”  
“You have been through a lot, Evie. It’d be unfair to get mad or somethin’.”  
“But you, Sean, Abigail, and Sadie know I need to leave. I know I need to leave. Even Hosea knew I needed to leave. But I still don’t listen.”  
“Hey. Don’t worry about it. You do what you need to do before you choose to leave.” He kissed me softly. “Ain’t no one gonna force you out, okay?”  
“I keep messing things up, don’t I?”  
“After everythin’ that’s happened, no one is gonna know how anybody is gonna react to what’s been goin’ on.”  
“You’re too nice to me sometimes.”  
“I ain’t gonna be mean. Do you want it?”  
“After the day we’ve had, _yes_. Please.”  
♞♞♞

“I haven’t seen a place this peaceful since...since...” I scratched at my arms. “Well, never.”

The air of the reservation smelled of campfire; there was no other heavy smells like those of camp. There was no smells of whiskey or moonshine, or horrible cooking, not even cigarettes. Even though Charles told me that they wouldn’t mind having me there, some of the Indian ladies looked at me curiously, as if asking why a white woman would want to be amongst them. A slightly older Indian man walked over to where Charles and I were standing.

“Mister Smith, you made it,” the man said.  
“How is everything?” Charles asked.  
“Not very good, I’m afraid. Who might this be?”  
“Evangeline Locke, um...erm...sir,” I said.  
“This is Rains Fall,” Charles mentioned. “He’s the chief here.”  
“Good to meet you.”  
“Make yourself at home, Miss Locke,” Rains Fall suggested. “Any friend of Mister Smith is a friend of ours.”

I looked up at Charles and then looked back at the chief. Why was I so shocked that he’d said that to me? I barely understood why I was still so nervous; I’d personally done nothing to hurt these people. Hopefully I would be able to get past that and relax for once in such a long time.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.  
“I see you have been scratching yourself,” Rains Fall suddenly mentioned.

I looked at my arms, which were covered with sleeves. The sleeves were ever so lightly stained with specks of blood, however. I hadn’t realized how bad the scratching had become. I felt my face become hot from embarrassment. There was a reason I scratched my arms through my sleeves rather than rolling them up and scratching my bare skin. I looked back up at Rains Fall when he began speaking in a language I wasn’t familiar with. I jumped when I realized there was suddenly a woman behind me.

“Make her comfortable,” he told her as she grabbed my hand.  
“Um...” I stammered. “_Um_...”  
“You’ll be fine,” Charles assured me.  
“Mister Smith, would you help with the firewood?” Rains Fall inquired.  
“Of course.”

I really, really, very much didn’t want Charles to leave me alone. As welcoming as the chief was, how was I to know that the other ones would be, too? Still, I didn’t argue, but I did look at Charles with puppy dog eyes as the woman took me over to sit outside one of the tents. The tents around this camp didn’t look the same as the ones in ours. They were taller and not square like ours.

“Roll up your sleeves,” the woman requested.

I didn’t want to. She was going to see not only the scratches, but she was also going to see the scars. I didn’t know what to do but stare at her; that was rude of me to do, but I didn’t know how to tell her that she couldn’t see my arms.

“I am not going to hurt you,” she said, taking a small container out of the satchel she carried.  
“It’s not that,” I replied. “I know you won’t, it’s just that...”  
“Whatever may be wrong, I will not speak of it. Chief Rains Fall has asked me to put ointment on your wounds.”

The only person who had seen the scars on my arms was Charles. He was the only one who had seen every single scar on my body. I knew this woman was trying to help me, even if it was just a little bit, but my scars were something I didn’t want just _anyone_ seeing.

“Please, let me help,” she insisted.

With a small sigh, I hesitantly pulled the sleeves of my dress up. Just like she said, the woman didn’t say anything regarding my scars and not even the scratches. I winced as she spread the ointment on the spots where the scratches were the worst. She was thorough and gentle, and once she was done with the ointment she wrapped my arms with cloth, and then pulled my sleeves down for me.

“T-Thank you,” I mumbled.

The woman smiled gently before some other women wandered over. One of them handed me a bowl of soup -- it smelled much better than anything Beth made, that was for sure. When I tried to decline the bowl, she took my hand and forced me to take it. I didn’t want to take any of their food since they were having enough troubles as it was. I was told to be respectful, and yet I felt like them giving me things they would need was completely disrespectful. Still, much to my chagrin, the ladies around me kept insisting I eat. To them, I was too skinny.

These ladies didn’t know me. They didn’t have to know me. They didn’t need to treat me as nicely as they were. I thought back to when I first arrived in Blackwater; if Abigail and the other ladies had treated me this well to begin with, would things have turned out different? In the beginning, I was nothing like the ladies back in camp. But now I was surrounded by ladies, by people, that I definitely wasn’t like. I’d never be looked at and judged just for my skin colour or for my clothes, or for the language I spoke in.

One of the other ladies took it upon herself to braid my hair. I never kept it up anymore except for if I was hunting considering I knew Charles liked it down -- even if he never actually said so himself. I didn’t try to stop her like I had the other two. The braid she made was long and I had thought she was going to wrap it up on top of my head. No, she kept it flowing down my back. All of us stayed chatting for hours. At the same time, they taught me how to make dream catchers. They were meant to catch bad dreams while someone slept and throw them away in the morning. I felt as if I was imposing on them even if I myself hadn’t asked for anything from them.

“How do you know Mister Smith?” one of the ladies suddenly asked.  
I was a bit taken aback by her question, but ignored how surprised I was. “We’re, ah, in the same gang together...”  
“Do you have intentions?”  
“I have _good_ intentions, if that’s what you mean. I’d have a future with him, if he’ll have me.”  
“I am sure he will.”

Time had gotten away from me; the sun was already beginning to set. Charles and I had arrived at Wapiti late morning. I supposed being as accepted and taken cared of as I had been had distracted me from the time. Charles was just saying goodbye to Rains Fall when I stood up to go over to Maple and Taima. After the day I had, I didn’t want to return to camp, but I had to. I knew deep down that he took me to Wapiti to see what a comfortable living situation and caring “family” really was to make me think about leaving sooner. I couldn’t be mad at him.

“You are welcome anytime you wish,” Rains Fall mentioned as I mounted Maple.  
“Thank you,” I mumbled.

Charles and I rode out from the reservation, heading back in the direction of Beaver Hollow. It wasn’t until we were far enough from Wapiti that I stopped riding, which caused him to stop, too. He looked confused as to why I did it.

“Do you think we could stay in a hotel tonight?” I wondered.  
“We can,” he replied. “It’s just that Valentine is the closest town. You feelin’ okay?”  
“I just want to take my clothes off.” My face heated up. “And I really am in no rush to return to camp after everything.”  
“Evie, you just need to ask.”

It was a decent ride to Valentine; it had been long enough since we had been there that we were able to walk freely into the hotel and get a room. I wasn’t exactly tired. I just felt like I needed to relax and sleep in a bed.

“What did you end up doin’?” Charles asked.  
“The ladies fixed my arms, gave me soup, taught me how to make dream catchers, and did this to my hair,” I replied.  
“You should come back with me sometime. It looked like they enjoyed your company.”  
“It reminded me of when I first joined up with all of you. These ladies were so much nicer and welcoming than those in camp.”  
“They’re kind people. The men can be, well...brash sometimes, but it’s for a good reason. Rains Fall said you got sadness in your eyes.”  
I sighed. “What do you think?”  
“It don’t matter what I think, Evie.”

I folded my arms across my chest as I sat on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t like Rains Fall was _wrong_; of course I was sad. Everything felt like it was falling apart. After what Micah did to me, the feeling increased tenfold.

“Do I ask too much of you, Charles?” I asked.  
“You don’t ask me much at all,” he replied. “That ain’t a bad thing.”  
“The ladies in Wapiti asked what my intentions with you are.”

Charles didn’t seem fazed at all by my statement. According to him, it was bound to happen sooner or later -- it was just _sooner_. I hadn’t been insulted by their question. Not at all. But it really did make me think. I had my intentions, but those were _mine_ \-- not Charles’. I tensed up a bit when he asked me what I told them.

“I know they ain’t bad,” he said.  
“A-All I told them was that my intentions are good...” I admitted, my face becoming hotter.  
“Either way, the future ain’t somethin’ we know yet. So for now, just live in the moment.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Where you been, Evie?” Javier asked as I emerged from my tent.  
“What do you mean?” I replied. “You just saw me--”  
“I ain’t seen you in a few days.”  
“Just helping Charles with something. Is that okay?”  
“Helping him with somethin’, huh? You wanna help me, too?”

I stared at him, unimpressed. Did Javier think the only thing Charles and I did was leave camp to have sex? It was better that way, yes, and we were far less likely to be interrupted, but how dare he assume such a thing? He was testing just how far he could insult me, directly or indirectly, before I lashed out at him, too. I could feel it. Dutch, Bill, and Arthur hadn’t returned from Guarma the same, but Javier seemed just a little bit worse for wear, and Micah was still Micah. I wasn’t the only one who was being treated differently, either; everyone was at _someone’s_ throat.

“Go sharpen your knife,” I said.  
“Just did,” he admitted.  
“Well, then, go do something else that doesn’t require you to be around me right now.”

As he walked away, I just wanted to throw something at his head. I’d been unfaithful to _one_ person _one_ time and suddenly now that everyone was under so much pressure to “behave”, Javier expected me to do it again? I wasn’t even drunk and I didn’t know how many times I had to apologize about what I did with Kieran.

“Okay?” Arthur wondered.  
“Are any of us?” I sighed and turned to him. “When are you getting John back?”  
“I dunno. Dutch don’t even want us movin’ to get him yet.”  
“_Still_? They’re going to hang him.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I gotta go meet Sadie; you take care, now.”

I gave him a slight wave goodbye. Wanting to wait to get John out until we moved camps was only just a tiny bit understandable, but now that we were moved it was completely incomprehensible. What the hell was Dutch thinking? John was like his son; he should have been in a major rush to get him out of there. It had to be Micah, whispering in his ear again, trying to convince him that those of us in the camp were the bad ones.

I sat down at the campfire and put my head in my hands. From the time in Blackwater to now, things just continued to feel even worse and worse. It felt like the beginning of the end, but I had to keep make Dutch think that I was still somewhat loyal to him. He already knew I had no faith in him because of the things that happened. Either he had to get his act together soon or everyone, and I meant everyone, would be leaving his side. I’d already sent a letter to Beth letting her know that in the near future I would be returning home.

“You feelin’ okay?” Charles inquired, sitting down next to me.  
I exhaled sharply and looked at him. “Not particularly.”  
“You haven’t been scratching again, have you?”  
“Um...a little bit... I know I need to stop, but...”  
“I know. You send that letter yet?”

I nodded. If I was going to leave, I was going to have to try and convince some of the ladies or others to come home with me. I couldn’t just get myself out and leave everyone knowing how horrible Dutch was becoming. I’d actively been avoiding Dutch as much as I could just so he couldn’t ask to speak with me or just yell at me if he felt so inclined. Just the thought of saying goodbye to anyone who didn’t or couldn’t come with me made me want to cry.

“You wanna get outta here?” Charles asked. “Go hunting?”  
Javier snorted as he wandered by. “‘Hunting’. Right.”  
“No,” I mumbled. “I should stay here in case someone needs help with something.”  
“Alright.” Charles handed me his tin cup. “I’m gonna be heading back to the reservation in the next few days if you wanna come.”  
“Evie?” Mary Beth asked, quickly walking up to the campfire. “Can I talk to ya?”  
I took a small sip of coffee before handing Charles his cup back. “Sure. Let’s go.”

She led me over to behind the supply cart and looked around before speaking. Not only did she look nervous, but she also sounded nervous. Her voice shook and it seemed like she may cry.

“Now I ain’t sayin’ it’s gonna happen,” she started, “but in case any of us gotta leave...do ya got a place to go?”  
“Um...” I scratched the back of my head. “Well...”  
“I’m only askin’ because...because...it’d be better if some of us stay together, right? I still gotta talk to him about it, but I’m gonna take Kieran with me.”  
“My house in Arkansas, I guess.”  
“I’m tellin’ ya right now, it don’t feel right bein’ here.”

I agreed with her and she turned and walked away. There was probably no convincing Karen, not while she was drunk and not while she was sober. If I tried to convince her while she was sober -- one of the rare times -- she would only mention it when she got drunk again. And if I tried to convince her while she was drunk, it would just come out of her mouth sooner. She’d probably end up leaving on her own eventually if things got too bad.

“Hey, future Mrs MacGuire,” Sean said cheerily as he walked up to me.  
“Good morning,” I muttered.  
“What’s with the long face, eh?”  
“Are you serious?”  
“I gotta get one of ya’s to smile and I figured it’s gotta be you. This place is dull as hell without a smile, don’tcha think? Anyway, I wanted to ask ya--”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Javier kick Uncle. I’d only ever said a few words to Uncle and he never did anything -- literally -- but I didn’t think he deserved to be _kicked_. I excused myself from Sean, much to his annoyance, and ran over to where Javier and Uncle were.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I snapped, shoving Javier.  
“Y’know, it’s one thing to have no loyalty, but it’s another thing to be lazy _with_ no loyalty,” he told me.  
“He’s an old man, Javier; you can’t just go around kicking him!”

I scoffed at him and helped Uncle to his feet.

“Don’t you worry ’bout me, now, Evie,” he said. “I’m fine.”  
“If anyone deserves to be kicked...” I began, but stopped myself. “Go rest over there.”  
“Mind your own business,” Javier said.  
“You’re one to talk.”  
“Don’t you get mad at me, _puta_. Learn to keep your legs shut and maybe people would respect you, huh?”

I shrunk back slightly, shocked that he would even say something like that. Unfortunately, I only knew what “puta” meant because he said it so much that I once had to ask him what he was saying. So he really _did_ think I was a whore. Somehow I knew he had.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” I shouted, shoving him backward. “Talking to me that way -- where the hell do you get off on that?!”  
“Oh, what?” Javier said sarcastically. “Can’t handle the truth?”  
“You have no right to call me such things! _No right_!”  
“Please, I know how you think of me. If I weren’t this way, I would’ve gotten you off just fine.”  
“If you weren’t _what_ way, Javier? _Mexican_?”

Javier shook his head at me, as if I should know the answer already. It didn’t take me long to realize what he meant.

“Is that how you think I see you?” I asked. “That you’re some...disgusting person? Are you expecting me to call you ‘greaser’ now or have you always expected that?”  
“Why else couldn’t you finish, hah?” he retorted.  
“Because I was _uncomfortable_, you jerk!”

Javier’s expression relaxed once I shouted that at him. I started crying from frustration. When he tried to say he was sorry and to hug me, I pushed him back. I couldn’t believe him. Saying all those bad things about me, thinking those things about me, and treating me the way he did -- how did he _dare_ try to put his arms around me?

“Evie--” he tried to say.

I hit him in his throat with my elbow, causing him to momentarily stop breathing and knocking him to the ground. He rubbed his throat as his breathing came back.

“Rot in hell, Javier Escuela!” I screamed before storming toward my tent.  
“How many times do the men in this camp gotta get their butts beat by that woman before they ain’t gonna cross her?” I heard Karen drunkenly ask.  
Micah kept me from going inside my tent by standing in front of it. “You ain’t gotta take your anger out on Javier, Evangeline,” he said mockingly. “He’s just stressed out about stuff; that’s all.”  
“He has no right to take that stress out on me!” I snapped. “Now move before I punch you in the throat, too!”  
“Do we gotta have a ‘talk’ again?”

I kicked him in his groin and went over to where Maple was fussing; she could feel just how tense I was, how tense the _camp_ was, and it was making her possibly feel unsafe. As I was trying to calm her down, Charles came to join me. I didn’t want to talk; I just leaned against Maple and let Charles place a hand on my shoulder. Hopefully Beth would return my letter soon.  
♞♞♞

“You got John back,” I mumbled as I wandered up to Sadie.  
“Well, sure, we did,” she replied. “Somethin’ happen? Ya look upset.”  
“It’s just not been a good day.”  
“Was it Micah?”  
“Him _and_ Javier.”  
“I got some good news for you, if ya want it.”

What could she possibly tell me that would make me feel better? Good news was supposed to do that, but I was so upset about the things that had happened and were happening that I just couldn’t seem to look forward to the news. Despite the way I felt, I nodded.

“The law’s got Colm O’Driscoll,” she said. “Me and Arthur are gonna make sure that son of a bitch swings.”

How were they going to manage such a thing? It wasn’t that I doubted Sadie, and not even Arthur, but how were they going to get close enough to make sure nothing went wrong? Arthur was a wanted man; with that many lawmen around, wasn’t that just _asking_ for him to get caught? Still, there were only a handful of people I could trust and put my faith in, and two of those people were Arthur and Sadie. They were going to make sure that Colm would pay for everything he did; hurting me, taking my baby from me, hurting Sadie, and hurting all the other people he ever did.

“He ain’t gettin’ away,” Sadie assured me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “He’s gonna swing for your baby and my husband.”

She pulled me into a tight hug, of which I slowly returned. If she said that she was going to make sure of it, I had no choice to believe her. Sadie was a force of nature; she said she wanted, or needed, to do something, she was going to do it and nothing was going to stop her. The longer she hugged me, the tighter I hugged her back. She and Arthur were going to ensure that no one was going to have to live their life looking over their shoulders anymore. Without Colm, the O’Driscolls were nothing.

“I gotta go tell Dutch,” she said gently, pulling away. “He’s gonna wanna see that bastard swing, too.”

Of course he was going to want to see Colm be hanged; for Annabel. I watched her as she headed over to Dutch’s tent, where he was standing outside smoking a cigar. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from the look on his face I could tell he was glad she had told him. Maybe with the planning behind Arthur and Sadie, everything would turn out right for the first time in months.

“Evie, it ain’t right here,” Kieran huffed as he stopped in front of me.  
I looked at him. “Huh?”  
“This camp... It-It ain’t right. I gotta get Mary Beth outta here.”

Mary Beth wanted to get Kieran to leave with her and Kieran wanted Mary Beth to leave with him. It seemed that both of them were unsure if the other would agree, but now it looked like if one of them asked the other they could leave together with no questions asked between them. Mary Beth was going to be allowed to lay low at the family home in Arkansas; I wondered if Kieran would want that, too. If they were to leave before me, I’d have to send a letter with them for Beth.

“You should go talk to her,” I suggested.  
“What if she don’t agree?” he asked. “Could you try to talk to her first?”  
“Kieran, I_ really_ think you should talk to her. Something tells me that she will listen to you.”  
“Okay; if you really think so.”

It was Dutch next to come up to me to talk. I couldn’t just run off in the other direction because then he would just yell at me even more when he got the chance. I cowered away slightly when he made it to me.

“You gonna betray me next?” he inquired.  
“I’m...sorry?” I said.  
“First John, now Arthur, what about you?”  
“I don’t think John did anything, Dutch. A-Are you blaming him for what happened in Saint Denis? As for Arthur, he didn’t betray you. He just...rescued John from prison...”  
“Behind my _back_.”  
“John is your _son_, Dutch. It was wrong of you to just wait and see what happens.”  
“I’m keepin’ a close eye on you, Miss Locke.”  
“No need. It seems Mister Escuela is already doing that for you.”  
“Whatever. I got matters to attend to.”

I really thought he was going to yell at me or even hit me. I could have pretended I had a job somewhere and just spend a little bit of the money my father gave me for a hotel room. Anything to get me to stay out of camp. I was exhausted from the crying and the screaming. I’d not slept since that hotel room in Valentine. That was nearly four days ago. I was so scared to sleep in camp, too, because what if Micah tried something again? I’d not bought another cot considering if I was going to sleep, it was going to be with Charles on his bedroll.

I went back to my tent to grab my needlepoint, just to try and distract myself. There was no use being outside if I was only going to be belittled and scolded. If anyone else needed or wanted to talk to me, they could ask if they could come inside. I was so exhausted, but I wasn’t going to let my guard down while I was alone. As I was dozing off on my stool, I began paying attention again when I heard someone coughing so violently. Quickly bursting out of my tent, I found who it was.

“Arthur?” I asked. “Arthur, a-are you okay? That cough...”  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as if it was nothing. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”  
“That cough is...it’s like the one Mister Matthews had and he had...”  
“It’s just a little cold, Evie -- it really ain’t nothin’.”

He was lying. I knew he was lying. I didn’t know how I knew, but I just..._knew_ he was. The cough was so violent that he had to spit out blood, just like Hosea had been doing. I was guessing he just didn’t want people to worry about him, so he just shrugged it off. It was concerning. He needed to rest, not be up and walking around or leaving camp to do anything labour-heavy. Of course, if I said anything to him about that he’d still say he was fine. There was nothing I could do.

“We’re gonna get that Colm O’Driscoll,” he said, his voice a bit wheezy. “Don’tchu worry about it.”  
“Are you going now?” I wondered. “Dutch just left.”  
“Nah, not yet. There’s some business we gotta do in Annesburg first.”  
“With Dutch?”  
Arthur sighed. “And Micah.”  
“That... That doesn’t sound good. Will you please be careful?”  
“Don’t worry ’bout me.”

He mounted his horse and then took off out of camp. Nothing good was going to come out of whatever was going to happen in town. I almost wanted to go myself to make sure Arthur didn’t get into too much trouble. He was so sick. Knowing Micah and Dutch, they’d end up forcing him into a situation in which he would exert himself. I had to stay out of the way, though, otherwise I’d just give Dutch and Micah more ammunition to use against me.

“Evie, you eat yet?” Sean asked.

I turned to look at him as he approached me. He was holding two bowls of stew. Sean had been trying to talk to me ever since we got to Beaver Hollow and I always had to go do something else; the least I could do was sit and eat with him. I took one of the bowls from him and led him over to the table.

“What are ya makin’?” he wondered. “You were doin’ needlepoint.”  
“It’s a fox,” I said. “I saw it on the way back to camp the other day. Completely red, except for its feet. Those were white.”  
“Hey, do ya think there’s a rat?”  
“We’re in the wilderness, Sean. There are bound to be--”  
“That ain’t what I mean.”

It took me a few seconds to fully understand what he was asking. I nodded; obviously there was a rat. Pinkertons couldn’t have just _known_ about the bank job coincidentally and they couldn’t have just _known_ where we were in Lakay based on a mere hunch. There was someone in the camp who was feeding them information; there was no doubt about it. I had an inkling as to who it was -- well, more than an inkling. More like a full inkwell.

“How y’all doin’?” Lenny said. “Mind if I sit?”  
“Go ahead,” Sean replied.  
“You still got that knife I gave you, Evie? Keep it nice and sharp.”  
“I don’t know how to sharpen knives,” I admitted sheepishly.  
“Nothin’ to worry about. I’m sure Sean will teach you.”  
“Do you know what’s going on in Annesburg?”  
“Somethin’ to do with that Cornwall guy.”  
“That doesn’t sound good.”  
“Don’t be gettin’ in the way over this. Ain’t no use in you gettin’ hurt, y’know?”  
♞♞♞

When Micah and Dutch returned to camp, something felt off. I had no idea why it felt that way, but it just did. Arthur returned long after them, appearing to be exasperated.

“Cornwall’s dead,” he told me.  
“He’s _what_?” I gasped.  
“Dutch said it weren’t a revenge mission and then he just killed him. He’s been the one funding the Pinkertons, so Dutch thought--”  
“Dutch thought killing Leviticus Cornwall would magically make them stop searching for us?” I looked over at where Dutch and Micah were talking. “Has he lost his mind?!”  
“I don’t think that’s even in question no more. We had to fight our way outta Annesburg. Cornwall’s men _and_ Pinkertons.”

I could only imagine the way Annesburg looked after that. Whatever the original plan had been, perhaps Cornwall hadn’t agreed to it at all. But still -- Dutch didn’t have to go and kill him. Cornwall was a defenceless man, wasn’t he? Sure, he had people who carried guns to protect him, but shooting a man who wasn’t holding a gun or weapon himself was almost like killing an innocent person. He was a bad man, there was no denying that, but things were already out of hand.


	33. Chapter 33

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure Dutch was just gonna leave me there,” John admitted one evening as some of us sat around the campfire. “He ain’t been himself in a long while. Been killin’ innocent people and thinkin’ we ain’t loyal to him.”  
“I think he thinks you’re the rat,” I mumbled.  
“That’s exactly what he thinks,” Arthur said. “Ain’t gonna be long till he starts blamin’ others, too.”  
“He thinks I’m going to betray him next.”  
John shook his head. “I don’t get it. He was so sweet on ya when you first got to Blackwater, but now? When did that happen?”  
“Somewhere between Blackwater and Rhodes. He used to be so proud of both of you, too. The only logical explanation I can think of as to why he’d be treating you two this way is because of Micah.”  
“Who’s _obviously_ the rat,” Lenny chimed in.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. Earlier on in the day, Dutch had dug into me about what I was doing all the time outside of camp. I obviously refused to tell him, considering it was none of his business. All he needed to know was that I was helping people. I was luckily able to defuse our conversation before it turned into a screaming match again. Just as I was about to speak up again, Javier wandered up to the campfire. All of us knew not to talk about Dutch or Micah badly whenever he was around -- he’d only go and tell Dutch what was being said. I understood loyalty, but what Javier had was worse than loyalty. Just because many of us were in difficult situations when we were brought into the gang didn’t mean that we had to be blind followers of someone who was slowly going mad.

“Evening, Evie,” Javier said as he sat next to me.  
“Would one of you boys care to switch seats with me?” I inquired.

John obliged my request and I went to the side of the campfire he had been sitting on. I wasn’t going to wander around camp alone, due to the fact it was dark, Charles was keeping watch, and Sean was already passed out from all the whiskey he drank. Sitting at the fire with at least Arthur and Lenny would most likely keep someone from ripping into me over something. I was tired of all the fighting and so I wanted to avoid any confrontations if at all possible. Moving seemed to annoy Javier, but he didn’t say anything.

“You good?” Lenny asked.  
“I’ll be fine,” I replied.  
“Did anything happen today?” Javier wondered, lighting a cigarette.  
“Held up a stage,” Lenny mentioned. “Ain’t much, but I got somethin’.”  
“What about you, Evie?”

I looked at him and then looked away again, folding my arms across my chest and one leg over the other. Even if this man apologized for the things he said to me and called me, I wasn’t going to forgive him. He hadn’t even attempted to say that he was “sorry”. It was too late, now. If he wanted to talk to me, he could talk to me through someone else, otherwise he could deal with my silence toward him.

“Times like this was a good time to talk to Hosea,” John said.  
“Yeah, he knew what to say,” Arthur agreed, standing. “Make things feel like they’d be okay again.”  
“Mister Matthews was my favourite,” I admitted.

Arthur bumped my arm slightly, almost like he was agreeing with my statement, before walking over to Reverend Swanson. Hosea had been like everyone’s wise father -- much wiser than Cornelius, at least. Like everyone in the camp, he wasn’t a good person, but he was obviously one of the better ones. If anyone deserved to live, it was him, but Dutch’s idiotic plans got him killed.

“Well, I got guard duty,” Javier said, sounding disappointed.

He’d only come to the campfire to smoke and try to get a conversation out of me? That was something, alright. At least with him going to keep watch, Charles was going to be able to come to bed. That wasn’t meant to be, though. While Dutch and Arthur were talking, Karen, Javier, and Charles were walking behind Rains Fall’s son, Eagle Flies. What was he even doing at our camp? Wapiti was so far from Beaver Hollow. As I listened, I heard something about horses. The army had taken the Indian’s horses, forcing them to not be able to hunt.

I understood the need to rescue the horses -- but from the army? I would do anything to keep Maple from being hurt or taken away from me, but to get the army involved seemed like a suicide mission. They weren’t an organization to be crossed. Leviticus Cornwall and the Pinkertons were _one_ thing, but the army? Completely different. Much to my chagrin, the only reason Charles was going was because he didn’t want Eagle Flies to do anything stupid.

“Charles, is that a good idea?” I asked.  
“No,” Charles replied. “But I ain’t just gonna let him do this alone for Rains Fall’s sake. I’ll be back soon.”  
“Please be careful.” I looked toward John and Lenny again. “Dutch is gonna get that poor boy killed.”  
“Yeah, he can say he’s helpin’ ’em, but he ain’t helpin’ no one but himself,” John said.

When was the last time Dutch genuinely helped someone? I couldn’t remember. It was so infuriating to know that he wasn’t doing anything good with Eagle Flies. He was only adding kerosene to the fire that was the Indian’s rage toward the government. If we weren’t so far from the reservation, I would head over their and warn Rains Fall what was happening. I didn’t doubt that he knew, but if he had someone elses intervention, then perhaps he would want to be a bit more strict. Eagle Flies was a grown boy and could think for himself, but he still should have listened to his father.

“I’m gonna turn in,” Lenny announced. “Night.”  
“Goodnight. Most of us have known Dutch before Micah came along,” I muttered. “I don’t understand how he’s able to get into his head so easily.”  
John struck a match on the bottom of his boot and lit a cigarette. “Micah’s nothin’ but a kiss ass. You know how pissed Dutch gets when he’s bein’ questioned or thinks someone’s goin’ behind his back. Shit, I’m pretty sure he was mad at Hosea for not wantin’ to do that job in Blackwater.” He moved over next to me and handed me his cigarette.  
“Did _you_ want to do the job?” I took a puff.  
He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. I know you didn’t want nobody doin’ it.”

Even all these months later, I was still mad at Micah for putting the boat job into Dutch’s head. If it weren’t for him, we might have either still been in Blackwater or moved to California or somewhere else and the Pinkertons wouldn’t have been so close to us all the time. And here Dutch was still talking about getting on a boat and leaving the United States. John and I couldn’t swim, and the boat he had hidden on after what happened in Saint Denis sunk. What would happen if that happened again? He’d probably just leave us in the water to drown, too.

“Dutch ain’t one to wanna hide out in a goddamn cave,” John mentioned, taking the cigarette back. “Just goes to show how messed up things are right now.”  
“I have to wonder what Mister Matthews would have said about this,” I admitted.  
“Hopefully knock _some_ kinda sense into Dutch’s head. Those caves ain’t nice. You been inside yet?”  
“Erm, no. I haven’t. Should I?”

John shrugged again and finished smoking as Bill wandered over. I thought he was going to sit down, but instead he started yelling at me about being a traitor. I looked at John, who just looked as confused as I did. Bill and I had never had full conversations, mostly because he was almost always drunk, angry, or drunk and angry. I thought he was trying to scare me, but I couldn’t be scared of him. He was an idiot.

“What am I a traitor for _this time_, Bill?” I wondered, looking back at him. “Did I take the last bit of coffee this morning before you could get to it or is it because I gave the last bottle of whiskey to Sean before he passed out?”  
“You tryin’ to be funny?” he demanded.  
I sighed. “What do you want?”  
“Goin’ behind Dutch’s back and--”  
“I’m helping people, Bill, which I guess is something you would know nothing about. We all know who the rat is, but you’re just too stupid to see it.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You’re excused.”

Calling Bill stupid for not realizing who was the rat was basically just calling Dutch stupid, too. It was so obvious Micah was it, but they were just too blind to see it, and apparently Javier didn’t have a clue who the real rat was. I knew they all thought John was the rat. If he had been the rat, just how the hell would he have known where we were in Lakay while he was locked up on Sisika? I could shove it in Bill’s face that the Pinkertons only showed up after he did, therefore somehow suggesting he had been dumb enough to be followed by a team of Pinkertons big enough to be spotted from atop a mountain. I was so glad I hadn’t been there to deal with the Pinkertons again.

“I got my eyes on you,” Bill threatened.  
“Just like how you had your eyes on the Pinkertons following you?” I retorted.  
“Shut up!”  
“Piss off, you simpleton.”  
“What didja call me?!”  
“A simpleton, now get out of my face before I punch you in yours.”

Bill grumbled as he walked off. Did the men that tried to gang up on me think I was some shrinking violet who would take their idiot words and not fight back? That’s definitely how it felt and no matter how many times the camp bore witness to how I was in an argument, _someone_ still thought they could make me take it without fighting back. I especially wasn’t going to lose an argument started by the camp moron.

“You really know how to handle yourself,” John said.  
“Please, Bill Williamson is nothing,” I replied with an annoyed sigh. “A toddler could handle him.”  
“Hey, Evie, could I talk to ya for a second?” Mary Beth asked, wandering up to me.  
“Everything okay?”  
“I just need someone to talk to. Y’know?”

I went with her over to behind the supply cart where two wooden crates sat. Something really must have been on her mind if she was talking to me and not Susan or one of the other ladies. I wasn’t sure what advice I’d give her if she needed any. She and Kieran already knew that I was going to open up my home in Arkansas to them.

“I’m so scared here,” she admitted. “It’s almost like I’m a prisoner.”  
“If you want to leave now, I can--” I began.  
“No, we ain’t ready. It’s just...” She let out a sigh. “Evie, you seem so fearless. Like you ain’t scared of nothin’.”

Was that how I presented myself to others? I supposed that the only time I ever really allowed myself to be vulnerable was with Charles. My hiding in my tent must have only come across as needing to be alone or some privacy. I had to wonder if she was the only one who thought that about me or if the other ladies thought it, too. I knew Sadie had been able to tell that I was scared at times because of our experience with the O’Driscolls.

“Oh, Mary Beth, I’m scared of plenty of things,” I told her. “Just because I put on a brave face in most situations, it doesn’t mean I’m fearless.”  
“What are you scared of?” she asked.  
“Colm O’Driscoll, dying alone...u-um...Micah...”  
She looked shocked that I’d said that. “Micah? But you’re so--”  
“I don’t want him knowing I’m scared of him, because then he’ll use that to his advantage. If I’m being honest, I’m scared of Dutch, too.”  
“I dunno what’s gonna happen to us if we don’t get outta here.”  
“I’ve got an inkling. Just...try to keep your head down, okay?”  
♞♞♞

“Where’s Arthur and Dutch?” I asked when Charles returned.  
“If I had to guess, Arthur’s talkin’ to Rains Fall,” he replied. “Dutch is in Saint Denis with Sadie waiting for him. How are you doin’?”  
“Bill started in on me last night. Nothing I couldn’t handle on my own.”

Charles looked at me, not impressed in the slightest. I knew what he was thinking; he thought it was definitely time for me to leave, but he knew that I wasn’t going to head home just yet. Firstly, I wanted to make sure that Colm O’Driscoll really was dead. Secondly, I was going to need to make sure that Abigail and Jack were safe. And thirdly, I still needed to wait for Beth’s letter. John had mentioned that he was probably going to get at least his wife and child out before things really got bad. Among that, if Susan wouldn’t leave, then I could at least hope to convince Tilly and Karen to leave. Mary Beth was already accounted for; she and Kieran only needed to get themselves ready, and they were doing it slowly so as not to rouse suspicion from Javier, Dutch, and Micah, and possibly Bill. I didn’t know about Sean; he still wanted me to run away with him, but of course I still needed to make sure of so many things. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to leave with him; the person I wanted a future with, after all, was Charles, and it seemed like he wasn’t even planning on budging, at least not yet.

“Did you sleep last night?” he asked.  
“I’m too scared to sleep alone,” I told him. “Did everything go okay last night?”  
“We got the horses back, but Eagle Flies is still determined to push back against the army. Dutch ain’t makin’ it any better.”

I didn’t like the way Charles was getting involved with the army. I felt so uneasy the night before that maybe he wasn’t going to come back and seeing him ride back into camp felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. As long as he was helping Rains Fall and Eagle Flies and helping around the reservation, I knew that he could make a target on his back for the army.

“I know you’re worried, here,” he said. “Rains Fall said you can stay with them.”  
“That’s as dangerous for me as it is for you,” I told him. “Besides, I’m helping Mary Beth and Kieran. When they leave, can we...” I sighed. “Can you and I leave?”  
“I need to stick around for the Indians’ sake. It might not be your business, or Arthur’s, and it sure as hell ain’t Dutch’s, but it is mine.”  
“Charles, do you want a future with me?”

Charles looked a bit taken aback by my question, almost like he thought I already knew what he wanted from me. I knew he wasn’t just using me, somehow. But at the same time, were we just a “now” relationship and once everything went to shit we wouldn’t be there for each other any more? Hosea had told me to pick the right side when the time came, but I couldn’t imagine Charles picking the _wrong_ side, especially with the things he was doing. Or did he think I was going to side with whichever side Sean chose?

“Your people come before me,” I sniffled. “That isn’t even something I can question.”  
“I want a future with you,” he admitted. “It ain’t in question, Evie, but I need to help them. I know you share the same feelings as me toward the army, but I ain’t gonna let the Indians deal with this on their own. It’s my decision.”  
“I know it is; it-it’s just...”  
“Don’t worry about me anymore than you already are.”  
“You’re a good man, Charles; I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want the world to lose someone like you, either.”  
“Don’t think about that. I love you, Evie, and if that means leaving you to keep you from harm, then--”  
“Please don’t.”

I wrapped my arms tightly around him, beginning to sob. I knew where he was coming from, but there was no way that I wanted to think about him leaving me. If things came to that, then I would have no choice but to leave camp, whether Mary Beth and Kieran were ready or not, or if everyone I wanted to make sure was safe was gone or not. Charles hugged me back with a sigh.

“I’m hopin’ it won’t come to that,” he said gently. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I’d already lost so much; I didn’t want to lose anything else. Whatever happened, whatever Charles decided, was out of my control. I didn’t have a say in what he would ultimately end up doing. The only thing I could hope for was that he chose to leave with me. If that didn’t turn out to be the case, then I would have to be alone or leave with someone else.

“I got guard duty.” He pulled back slightly. “Just try to relax, alright?”

He left me where I was to let me calm down. Was I being selfish? I didn’t want him to do the things he was doing. I loved him, of course, but did I only want him to stop because I wanted him to stay with me and be safe? It certainly felt selfish, wanting him to stop helping his people and instead just focus on us being together. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew what kind of man he was.

I sighed and pulled myself together. There was no use agonizing over something that hadn’t even come to fruition, or might never come to fruition. I wandered around the camp to distract myself. The camp felt empty, that was for sure. A lot of us were spending more and more time outside of camp or hiding in tents. There was no sense family warmth anymore. I still couldn’t believe how easy it had been for Micah to get inside Dutch’s head in such a short amount of time in Blackwater. Maybe the whole gang had been doomed from the very moment Micah had joined. To Dutch, Micah wasn’t the problem and he himself wasn’t the problem -- everyone else was.

As I passed the cave, I remembered what John had said about it not being nice. Just how bad could a cave even be? Well, it wasn’t like I took it upon myself to venture into caves for fun. The only time before I had been inside a cave was when Cornelius took me bat hunting. Aside from it being dark and slippery, that cave had been perfectly fine to me. But John was right; this cave we were situated by wasn’t nice at all. It was dank, cold, and it didn’t feel right. Charles had told me it had been a hideout for a gang of some pretty messed up people -- the Murfree’s -- but I didn’t think a cave could have felt the way people looked or acted. They were the reason Charles didn’t want me leaving camp alone.

I looked back at the entrance, wondering just how far I was willing myself to go. There was nothing in there that could hurt me, otherwise it would have come out by now and forced us all to move again. Besides, Arthur and Charles had cleared the place out before we moved to the clearing out front. I wandered further in, until I came to a wagon with boxes stacked up around it. They really looked strategically placed, that was for sure, because I could clearly see that there was something behind it.

I moved the boxes out of the way slightly before kneeling down and pulling the object out from underneath the wagon. It wasn’t just some object, but rather a chest. I looked at it for a moment, realizing just what this chest was full of. Holding my breath, I looked back the way I came. Everyone was told that Dutch would never leave our money so close to camp. He really was losing his mind.

“Evangeline!” Micah shouted. “Get the fuck outta there!”

I quickly returned the chest and the boxes to their previous positions and walked back toward the entrance. Micah looked annoyed as I emerged from the darkness. I pretended that I was doing nothing in there but walking around. He eyed me suspiciously as I stopped in front of him.

“There,” I muttered. “Happy?”  
“What were ya doin’ in there, princess?” he asked.  
“Walking around. Is that a crime?”  
“Should be.”  
“I’m not in the mood, Micah.”

I began walking away, but he grabbed my arm harder than Dutch ever did. It was to the point when I realized I could hear the bone starting to crack. It took me a moment to gather enough nerve to pull myself out of his grip, even if it did hurt like hell.

“You keep your hands off me, Micah Bell,” I growled, holding back tears.  
“What was on your mind, huh?” he snapped.  
“Look, all I did was hear that the cave was creepy and I wanted to see for myself. Is there something in there that you and Dutch don’t want me seeing or something?”  
“_I’m_ the one doin’ the questionin’ here, princess.”  
“Is that a ‘yes’?”  
“You say another goddamn word--”  
“Will I be darning socks with your mother in hell? Is that what’s gonna happen now?”

He punched me hard enough that I he knocked me to the ground. I really wasn’t shocked and as much as it hurt, I didn’t cry. It wasn’t all that long until Sean stormed over.

“You’re beatin’ ladies now?” he shouted, shoving Micah.  
“Take it easy, MacGuire--” Micah began.  
“I’ll show ya takin’ it easy!”

Abigail ran over as Sean began beating the hell out of Micah. She helped me to my feet while the two of them took blows at each other. It was mostly Sean landing the blows; he was barely being touched. I was pulled away to the side so Abigail could look at me. I touched my lip and winced; my lower one was bleeding. It only stung slightly, but the pain from the punch was still there. As much as I didn’t want to cry over Micah anymore than I already had, I ended up doing so. It was just a bad day again. Everyone was having more and more of those the longer we stayed in camp.

“Come on, let’s get ya cleaned up,” Abigail said, walking me over to the table.

She went to wet a rag; while she did so, Javier wandered by. He was just coming back from guarding the other side of camp. When he saw my face, he stopped and looked at me. I rolled my eyes, turning away slightly so he couldn’t see my face anymore.

“What happened?” he inquired.

I didn’t answer him. It may have been ridiculously petty of me to not speak to him at all, but the way he had treated me had struck a nerve. He’d been so nice to me for such a long time and then suddenly he, Dutch, Bill, and Micah thought I was betraying the gang and he did a complete turnaround on me. His claim that I hadn’t been able to even get close when he tried to have sex with me solely based on his being Mexican had been mind-shattering and wrong. I’d meant it when I said it was because I hadn’t been comfortable. Being called a whore by Micah was one thing, but being called such by Javier was a whole other thing. It was uncalled for by both men; it felt like Javier only called me that because he knew how much it made me angry. He could apologize all he wanted for making assumptions and calling me names -- it didn’t matter; I wasn’t going to forgive him. To think I ever had real feelings for him in the past made me feel disappointed in myself.

“Evie, wouldja look at me?” he said.

I didn’t budge.

“Why ain’t you talkin’ to me?” he demanded, setting his rifle on the table.  
“Are you forgetting that you called me a whore, Mister Escuela?” I shouted, looking at him angrily.  
“What’s it gonna take, huh?” He sat down across from me, his hands outstretched toward me in confusion. “You ain’t acceptin’ my apologies and you ain’t talked to me in weeks.”  
“I won’t say that I’ve not been ignorant in the past toward people from other countries or with different skin colours. But how _dare_ you even suggest that I didn’t come close just because you’re Mexican?”  
“Evie, I just--”  
“No. No, you didn’t ‘just’. You called me a whore, told me people ‘might’ respect me if I kept my legs shut, and indirectly called me a racist, _and_ you think I’m a traitor! Do you honestly think that after those accusations that I would want to talk to you or even look at you? There is no goddamn excuse for the way you’ve been acting! None!”  
“You been goin’ behind Dutch’s back and--”  
“For the last time, I’ve been helping people, Mister Escuela! Do you know the meaning of the word? Because it seems to me that you don’t!”

Javier sighed, leaned forward, and placed his head into his hands. He only did this for a few moments, though; he probably only had to think about what he was going to say next.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You ain’t a traitor, but--”  
“Don’t you tell me things that you think I want to hear,” I said, offended. “Even if you say that, I know you still think I’m a traitor.”  
“What happened to your face, Evie?”  
“You wanna know so badly? Micah punched me. Happy? You’re siding with a man who thinks it’s okay to put his hands on a woman and take advantage of her while she’s drunk. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”  
“You don’t see me the same no more, do you?”

I got up with a scoff to go find Abigail. She probably ended up needing to help Jack with something; I didn’t want her walking over to me in the middle of an argument again. As I began to walk away, Javier spoke up again.

“Evie, I still--” he began.  
I ran back over to the table, slammed my hands onto it and leaned over as far as I could. “You wanna know how I see you now?” I shouted. “I used to_ love you_, but you just started to become more and more suffocating and the angrier you got with me because I wouldn’t ‘choose’ you over Sean or Charles made me eventually not even _like_ you! When you were gone and no one knew where you were, the only two I wanted to actually return to us were you and Arthur! But now, I wish you were at the bottom of the ocean, you egotistical son of a bitch! Stay away from me and don’t talk to me again or I’ll make sure you don’t get up from the ground the next time I punch you in the throat!”

I turned on my heel and found Abigail just taking the rag out of the barrel. She dropped it when I hugged her. She held me tightly as I cried. Everything was incredibly overwhelming that I just couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. We stayed that way until I was able to somewhat pull myself together.

“Abigail,” I said quietly as she sat me down on a tree stump.  
“What is it?” she wondered.  
“The chest with all the money is in the caves, hidden beneath a wagon and behind some boxes.”

She looked shocked, just as shocked as I had felt when I discovered what was going on. Abigail looked around nervously as she dabbed my bloody lip.

“I know where the key is,” she admitted in a whisper.  
"You think you can get it?" I asked.  
She nodded. "I'm a good thief. Now, then, let's get Miss Grimshaw to look at your arm."


	34. Chapter 34

“No,” I gasped quietly, touching my face. “No, no, no...”  
“Miss Locke, when are you gonna come outta there?” Susan snapped.  
I placed my mirror in my lap. “Er, I’ll be out soon.”

It took me a few moments to hold the mirror back up. There was a long scar on my lip where Micah had caused me to bleed. I always asked what would happen if I had a scar on my face, too. Abigail hadn’t mention it would scar and neither had Susan. Maybe they hadn’t known, but Susan had known my neck would scar. The whole time I just wanted to protect my face and now Micah had gone and taken my beauty away. No amount of makeup was going to cover it up and I was using my handkerchief around my neck because of _that_ scar. I didn’t know what I was going to do.

“Where’s Micah?” I shouted, stepping out of my tent.  
“He’s out by Van Hor-- _Jesus Christ_,” Sean said, looking at me.  
I felt my face heat up. “Don’t look at me.”  
“Is that what Micah did to ya?”  
“I just said--”  
“I heard what you said.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I went back into my tent. It wasn’t but a few seconds that Sean decided to follow me in. I was sure he knew that the last thing I wanted was for anyone to be around me, but when did that ever stop him, especially when I was upset? He hardly ever listened to me, even when we were sleeping together.

“You gonna hide in here forever?” he wondered.  
“I can try,” I sniffled.  
“It ain’t that bad.”  
I turned and looked at him. “‘Not that bad’? ‘_Not that bad_’? Sean, I’m a pageant queen! Pageant queens don’t have scars on their face!”  
“I ain’t sayin’ they do, but--”  
“I’m not pretty anymore!”

I started sobbing and it looked like Sean had no idea what to do. He was probably thinking that, yes, of course I was still pretty, but he most likely knew that I would disagree with him, wholeheartedly. Either that, or he was thinking how ridiculous I was being. My vanity was out of hand. My body was covered in scars; those I could hide. The scar on my neck I could easily hide, too. But my face? _My face_? I couldn’t just hide my face from people. I didn’t understand why Sean was even able to look at me.

“What, ’cause of a scar?” he snorted. “_Jesus_, Evie. I’m goin’ to get Charles.”  
“Don’t do that,” I said quickly.  
“No, I’m doin’ that. I know you ain’t gonna listen to me, but you’ll listen to him.”  
“Sean--”

He left the tent before I could even stop him. Wasn’t Charles on guard duty? What was he going to do, take over for him just so he could come to my tent and try to convince me that I was still pretty? It was true that I mostly listened to what Charles told me, but what could he possibly say in this circumstance to make me listen? I grabbed my mirror and held it up again. This scar wasn’t like the scars on my body; those ones were small and, despite being different shapes, weren’t noticeable from afar. Even the scar on my neck had healed up nicely and someone had to really look to be able to see it. But this new scar on my face, thanks to that god-awful rat Micah, was split between my upper lip and my lower lip, and was deep, and bold.

Dutch and Sadie were still in Saint Denis waiting for Colm to be hanged, and I didn’t know where Arthur was. If he was with Micah or the other two, I couldn’t ask him just yet if he could beat him up in my favour. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sniffled. Everything was such a mess. The gang was nearly in shambles and here I was worrying over my face and whether I was pretty or not. Being in pageants growing up definitely solidified in my head that beauty was the most important thing a lady could have. Without beauty, what was a woman?

“Evie, I’m comin’ in, okay?” Charles said.

Before I could even say “no”, he walked into my tent. I immediately covered my mouth.

“Ain’t no point in trying to hide it,” he told me. “Sean told me what happened.”  
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, not lowering my hands.  
“Evie--”  
“No.”  
“_Evie_.”

Charles wasn’t going to leave it alone, for once. He would stand with me all day if he had to in order just to make me put my hands back at my sides. Sean hadn’t needed to do what he did; I didn’t understand _why_ he did it, but he did, and now Charles wasn’t going to back down. With a bit more persistence, he finally managed to get me to lower my hands.

“Okay,” he said.  
“Sean said it’s not that bad, but you need to be honest with me,” I requested.  
“It’s..._bad_...but it ain’t as bad as you probably think it is.”

I began to bring my hand back up to my lips, but he grabbed my arms to prevent me from doing so. I’d told him how much my beauty meant to me; everyone essentially knew how much it meant to me. Maybe if I’d gotten the scar in an actual gunfight or fistfight I wouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I had done nothing wrong to warrant it. I’d done nothing wrong to warrant any of my scars, but this one was different.

“I’m not...” I began, but my voice trailed off.  
“You sure as hell know that I ain’t with you because of your face or your body,” Charles reminded me.  
“But--”  
“‘But’ nothing, Evie.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Being with you’s got nothin’ to do with your face or your waist or whatever the hell else. I got these scars on my face before you even showed up to Blackwater and you’re still with me.”  
“That’s _different_. You’re a man, Charles. It’s-It’s completely different.”  
“Is it different because some judges and your father said so or...is it really different?”

He...raised a good point. Of course I thought it was actually that way -- that mindset had been instilled in my mind from when I was just a small child. Charles meant well, there was no mistake in that, but it was something I really needed to think about. I was so conflicted. How could I just throw away that kind of belief? Not only had Cornelius always called me beautiful, but so had perfect strangers, my friends, and awful criminals. It was different than when I lost my faith in God -- I’d been in the pageant world long before I understood what religion even was -- and after the violating and the unanswered prayers, it was gone. But even if my body had been taken advantage of and I had been hurt too many times to count, I still had my face -- the only thing I really had that was still perfect. Clean. Attractive. But now, Micah had gone and taken that away, too. I didn’t have anything left that was perfect. Not the safety of my own tent. Not the safety of the camp. Not my body, my neck, or my face.

“You get used to people not wantin’ to be around you,” Charles told me. “It’s better that way sometimes. Weeds out the people that don’t really care about you. Make sense?”  
“I... Yes, it does...” I mumbled.  
“So if Sean or Javier or whoever else don’t wanna be around you just ’cause of that scar, it’s better for you. But Sean ain’t gonna stop.”  
“I know he won’t and I’m...hoping Javier stays away even more after I yelled at him.”

Charles pulled me into a tight hug. He really was something else. What gave him the right to be so nice to me? What gave him the right to be a good person? I hugged him back. He had told me before that he wasn’t with me because of my looks, but thanks to all the pageants and what they had implemented in my mind, I hadn’t _completely_ believed him. But his being able to see past my appearance, with and without my new scar, just proved to me that he really did love me. It hadn’t been right that I didn’t believe him for the longest time.  
♞♞♞

“Micah!” I shouted.  
“What do ya want, princess?” he asked, not looking up from sharpening his knife.

He probably didn’t realize I was running at him; he wasn’t ready for me to tackle him to the ground and out of his chair. Micah swore as I did so, his knife getting jammed into the ground next to us. I’d told myself I would only punch him in the face for what he did to mine, but seeing him just built up more rage than I had. As I was trying to hit him, over and over again, nothing landed because for once he had the smart idea of holding his hands up to protect himself. I had to knee him in his groin to get him to move his hands, but once they were out of the way I landed enough punches to satisfy myself. Javier still had to rush over and pull me off of him, though, because even though I was satisfied, I still threw punches.

“Hey, hey, that’s enough!” Javier snapped.  
I turned around to him and shoved him back. “What did I say about coming near me?!”  
“What happened to your--”  
“Shut up!”

I stormed off, purposely bumping my shoulder into him as I did so. It felt like I was trapped in camp. With everything going on with Eagle Flies, Wapiti, and the army, there was no possible way for me to go and continue to help. Charles still did all he could, but how long was it until _no one_ could help them? I sat by the campfire, folding my arms across my chest. John finished talking with Abigail before coming to sit across from me.

“Er, Arthur wanted me to tell ya he’s goin’ to Saint Denis,” he said. “Y’know they’re hangin’ Colm?”  
“I know,” I replied.  
“You ain’t gonna go?”  
“I need to take care of some things here. Besides, if I go, how likely do you think they would get to hang that awful man?” I sighed. “Seeing him on the gallows, I might just do something stupid. None of us can really afford to do something stupid right now. Sadie assured me that she’ll make sure Colm gets what he deserves.”  
“Hey,” Sean said as he sat next to me. “You destroy those tracks, Marston?”  
John nodded. “Sure did.”  
“You did _what_?” I asked.  
“Dutch wants smoke; he got smoke. You think I could afford to not listen now?”

Okay, he had a point. Maybe if he didn’t listen, Dutch would just be more suspicious of him. Things were getting bad, and they were getting bad quick. If Dutch had been in camp, I doubted Micah would have punched me in the first place. I touched my lip with a staggered sigh.

“Thank you for defending my honour, Sean,” I mumbled.  
“Eh?” Sean asked.  
“Beating Micah up after he punched me.”  
“No problem. Greasy little shit...”

Just when I thought we were going to have a decent moment of peace and quiet, Mary Beth started screaming. The three of us looked over at where she was, and there was Bill trying to beat Kieran into admitting that _he_ was the rat. Even so many months later, he still only saw him as an O’Driscoll. The only thing keeping Bill from touching Kieran was Mary Beth, who was standing between the two of them. Sean grabbed my shoulder when I began to stand up and instead ran over himself. He still didn’t like Kieran, but at least he was realizing that he wasn’t as bad as everyone initially thought he was.

Sean yelling at Bill gave Kieran and Mary Beth enough time to get away. I looked at John, who shrugged. Both he and Abigail knew what I was agreeing to help the other two with. As I got up, I looked around and wandered over to where they had gone to.

“Please tell me you’re ready to go,” I huffed.  
“Sure, we are,” Kieran said. “B-But ain’t it a bit of a bad time to--”  
“It being a bad time is the reason why you should leave, now. Besides, Dutch isn’t here to say anything. The next time Bill or someone can start something with you, Sean or Mary Beth or myself might not be around.”  
“Evie!” Charles called.  
“Give me a moment.” I ran over to where Charles was waiting and he handed me a letter. “This better be from Beth.”

Luckily, it _was_ from Beth. She didn’t know how to write very well and so she managed to get one of the older maids to write for her. For the most part, she was glad I was okay and she told me how sorry she was about Cornelius. But she was just fine welcoming Mary Beth and Kieran into the house on my behalf.

“Thank you,” I breathed, giving Charles a hug.  
“Everything okay?” he wondered.  
“Mary Beth and Kieran.”

That was all I said, just in case someone overheard me. I waved Mary Beth and Kieran over to my tent, where I quickly wrote a note letting Beth know that these two were the ones I spoke of in my initial letter. It was going to take them a good few days to get to Arkansas from where we were, and so I gave them some of the money Cornelius left for me. I wasn’t going to let them camp, not when things were getting even worse than anyone ever expected. I even handed them a map, showing them exactly which way to take and any shortcuts they might come across.

“Don’t you even think of turning around,” I told them.  
Kieran got on top of Branwen. “No, ma’am,” he replied as he helped Mary Beth up.  
“Hey, Evie?” Mary Beth said.  
“Yes?” I mumbled.  
“Just in case you... I mean, if you don’t...”  
“I’ll see you in Arkansas. Hopefully sooner rather than later, but in any case, you two stay safe. If you’re going to send a letter letting me know you got there okay, send it to Strawberry.”  
“Ain’t that a bit far?” Kieran asked.  
“It’s a _precaution_, Kieran. Now, both of you, get out of here.”

I folded one arm across my chest, grasping my other one. That was one thing I was able to take care of. It had been merely opportunistic. I didn’t want to give anyone else the chance to rip into Kieran thinking he was suddenly the rat. He’d never meant any harm and he had done his fair share of work around camp.

“Where are they going, _amiga_?” Javier asked.

I turned to look at him, annoyed again. What part of “leave me alone” did he not understand? _All_ of it? This man was seriously getting on my nerves. I shook my head at him and tried to wave him off, but he grabbed my wrist to keep me from wandering off again.

“Somethin’ you need to tell me?” he said.  
“I’ve already told you all I needed to, Mister Escuela,” I snapped. “You know, I thought Bill was the only sheep in camp. I’m giving you five more seconds to let me go before you get another punch in the throat.”  
“Your threats don’t scare m--”  
“Five.”

I punched him again in the throat; he didn’t fall to the ground this time, but he _did_ let me go.

“Don’t you try to intimidate _me_, Mister Escuela,” I scoffed at him. “I’ve dealt with worse men and women than you.”  
“Miss Locke!” Susan called, quickly walking over. “Miss Locke, have you seen Mary Beth?”  
“I just saw her.”  
“Well, where is she?”

I shrugged and I was finally able to walk off. I knew eventually I was going to get in trouble for helping Kieran and Mary Beth run away, but I didn’t care. Mary Beth was a good person -- even if she _did_ used to steal for a living -- and I couldn’t just let her watch her family fall apart anymore than it already was. As for anyone else I could help leave, I doubted Tilly would go on her own unless something even _worse_ happened. I wasn’t even too sure about Karen. I knew Susan would do her best to stick by Dutch till the very end. If I even asked if she would consider leaving, she might have just thought I was betraying the gang myself. A betrayal in her eyes, at least coming from one of her girls, was worthy of getting shot.

“You okay?” Charles asked.  
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. “Do you think Sadie and Arthur will be back soon?”  
“Here’s hopin’. You ain’t gonna try to get them to go next, are you?”  
“Sadie, at least.”

If Sadie listened to me and left, where would she go? I doubted she would take me up on going back to my house in Arkansas. She’d probably gotten used to sleeping in a tent as opposed to an actual house.

“I know you won’t come with me,” I said quietly.  
“You’re not stayin’ here just because of me, are you?” Charles wondered.  
“At this point, I don’t know. Maybe I just want to make sure John, Abigail, and Jack get out before I do, or...”  
“Don’t be a fool, Evie. Okay?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. Just because he told me not to be a fool it didn’t mean I would listen to that. Maybe I already was a fool. I knew he had wanted me to take Sean up on his offer to run off with him, but stupid little me wanted to stay and help people, and even moreso stupid little me wanted to stay just because of Charles. It wasn’t a far off concept that perhaps I would die before I could even make it back home. If I died because I was stupidly in love then so be it.

“Hey!” Sadie shouted, waving at me.

She and Dutch had taken over a wagon. Had they driven that thing all the way from Saint Denis? It took me a moment to realize that they weren’t dressed how they normally did. I looked at Charles, who just looked back at me. As Sadie got down from the wagon and began walking over to me, I saw that there was some blood on the clothes.

“I’ll see you later,” Charles said, kissing the side of my head before walking off.  
“Sadie, what are... What is... You look like a rich lady,” I stammered.  
“Well, wouldn’t you know,” Sadie replied jokingly.  
“What is _he_ wearing?”  
“It ain’t like we coulda walked through Saint Denis wearin’ our own clothes.”

I blinked at her. So they’d managed to blend in okay? Did that mean what I thought it meant? She waved her hand at her face and took off the hat she was wearing. Really, she must have been so hot in that outfit.

“Anyway,” she sniffled, “we, uh, made sure that bastard swung. Had some O’Driscolls there to try and get him outta there, but we got to ’em first. Some other people died, but you know how it is.”  
“So...Colm _is_ dead? Really dead?”  
“Sure is.”  
“I... You’re amazing. Thank you, Sadie.”

I threw my arms around her. Knowing her, she probably did something she wasn’t supposed to do and that was why there was blood on her, but I didn’t care. Colm was dead, and so my baby and my father could actually have some peace. _I_ could have some peace. He was one less thing I had to worry about and hopefully I could stop feeling like I needed to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. Sadie returned my hug, patting my back.

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get outta this thing,” she chuckled as she backed away.

I knew I should thank Dutch, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He didn’t care if I’d be able to live just a tiny bit easier. He made sure Colm swung for himself -- for Annabel. Not like Sadie; Sadie made sure Colm swung for herself, her husband, my baby, and my father. Dutch didn’t help anyone but himself anymore. Almost like my thinking of him summoned him, he was walking quickly toward me. I felt like I should have taken off in a sprint, but I didn’t.

“What’s this about you causin’ trouble?” he demanded.  
“I’m not the one causing trouble,” I mumbled. “All I did was walk around the cave because I heard it was creepy and... Tsk. I don’t need to explain myself as to why I wanted to _walk around_. You know what I got for just walking around?” I pointed at my lip. “Micah punched me and now I’m stuck with this God awful scar.”  
“You ain’t got a reason to be in that cave--”  
“So now you’re dictating where I can and can’t walk around? You aren’t gonna go and talk to Micah and yell at him for hitting a lady when for so long you didn’t want anyone hurting innocent people or hurting women?”  
“I got a _plan_, Evangeline, and we don’t need you messin’ it up.”  
“What’s your plan, Dutch? Letting Micah get away with things you wouldn’t let Arthur or John get away with? Question the ladies? Get Eagle Flies into even more trouble? You don’t have a plan! Who do you think you are, _God_?”  
“I know that _you’re_ an ungrateful bitch.”

Ungrateful? Absolutely not. A bitch? Possibly, yes. But definitely not ungrateful. In his mind, clearly someone who was trying to do good for something else that didn’t benefit him was ungrateful. I couldn’t remember the last time when he helped someone besides himself. If he had to hurt innocent people to get what the gang supposedly needed to escape America, I didn’t want any part in it. He could get the money and the boat, but there was no way I could go with the gang to wherever they were going to in the end. Tahiti, Cuba, wherever that wasn’t America, I didn’t care.

“How dare you?” I snapped. “How _dare_ you, Dutch van der Linde?!”  
“Think about it,” he snapped back. “If I hadn’t asked for ya to come with me, you’d be locked away or in a goddamn marriage you didn’t even want!”  
“You asked and I took it because I at least wanted something for my baby! I doubt you even wanted _me_ to begin with! You only wanted my baby, didn’t you?! If I’d known what a horrible man you were going to become, I would have stayed away! If anyone is ungrateful, it’s you! You don’t care about any of us! You don’t care about all the work we do or how far we’ve followed you for despite all the stupid things you’ve done! You know, I’m so surprised that so many of us are here!”  
“If you hate it here so much, then why don’t you just go?!”  
“Because unlike you I actually care what happens to most of these people! _Someone_ has to care about John when his father figure has turned his goddamn back on him! You make people feel like they’re trapped here, Dutch! As much as you say ‘oh, it ain’t like I’m makin’ them stay here,’ you sure as shit know that if you saw them after they left you’d kill them! Maybe consider looking in a mirror before calling someone ungrateful, you prick!”

I stormed off into my tent and shut the flaps. He’d been back for not even ten minutes and we were already at each other’s throats. Why did he have to take Micah’s side? Just why did he feel the need to turn his back on his supposed family? If anyone left on their own terms, he’d call them traitors. I was worried about what would happen if he figured out that I helped Mary Beth and Kieran. As I sat in my tent, I forced myself not to cry. I shouldn’t have cared anymore about what Dutch thought of me; his opinion of me didn’t _matter_. Maybe it was just because I was scared of him and Micah. He didn’t want the best for the gang he apparently cared so much about; he just wanted what was best for _him_.

“Can we have one goddamn day where you don’t scream at someone, Miss Locke?” Susan shouted.  
I stepped back out of my tent. “Maybe Micah should stop acting like less than vermin and maybe Mister Escuela should stay away from me like I asked and maybe, as unfathomable as it may seem, Dutch should realize that not everyone is out to get him and that Micah is the problem.”  
“You really _are_ ungrateful.”  
“If you heard Dutch call me that, then you heard what I told him. Sometimes...” I swallowed hard. “Sometimes I’m glad that Colm did that to my baby, because I would hate to raise a child in this kind of situation.”  
“You watch your mouth, young lady.”  
“Emphasis on ‘young’. Charles! Will you go hunting with me?”

Charles put the axe he was using to chop wood down and headed over to where Taima and Maple were hitched up. Just as we were getting ready to leave, Arthur rode back into camp. He was barely off his horse when I hugged him tightly.

“Whoa, okay,” he said, startled. “How you gettin’ on?”  
“She and Dutch got into an argument,” Charlies explained.  
“_Again_?”  
“I’m hugging you because of Colm, Arthur,” I muttered, pulling away. “Thank you...”  
“Oh, that’s... You’re welcome, I guess.”  
“I know you didn’t do it for me, but--”  
“Nah, don’tchu go explainin’ yourself.”

Charles and I left camp; it had been a couple of days since I’d been outside at all. The air surrounding the camp was still there; it was so sinister, and the body I had initially seen was still hanging from the tree.

“Do you think he was a good person?” I wondered.  
“Far as I know, the Murfrees go after anybody,” Charles admitted. “Don’t matter if they’re bad or good. But...most people round these parts are good enough folks.”

The two of us had almost had a brush with a small group of the Murfrees one day on our way to go to the reservation. If they saw us, they didn’t bother with us. But if they had just done what they supposedly needed to do, then there was no point in them attacking us. I was sure both of us could handle them, but they were the reason Charles didn’t want me leaving camp on my own. Just looking at them from afar, seeing what probably hundreds of years of inbreeding would do to a person, was enough to make me freeze up. They were, to put it simply, horrifying. No wonder some of them had chosen to hide out in a cave. They looked like monsters, behaved like monsters, therefore they deserved to live like monsters. Rumour had it they were cannibals, too.

“I met Rains Fall while I was out earlier,” Charles said as we continued on down the path. “Dutch has put more foolish ideas into Eagle Flies’ head. Confronting the army head on.”  
“He’s only doing it for his own selfish gain,” I quipped.  
“Of course he is. You’ve seen how he acts after he’s gotten himself involved with the Indian’s situation.”  
“Charles, I’m sorry that you’re trying to make things better for them and helping them and he’s only making things worse.”  
“You got nothing to be sorry about. Look, just keep your head down for a while, okay? You shouldn’t keep gettin’ hurt the way you do.”


	35. Chapter 35

I was running around camp, doing my best to keep Micah from getting to me. I didn’t know if he was trying to scare me or if he was really going to do it, but he was chasing me with a rope and saying he was going to tie me up so I couldn’t cause anymore trouble for Dutch. And Dutch being the different man he was these days, he just stood outside his tent, smoking a cigar, not doing anything about it. He probably thought Micah was just playing around, but I didn’t take being tied up lightly after the cabin.

“Stay away from me!” I shouted.  
“Aw, is the princess gonna _cry_?” Micah mocked.

Indeed, my eyes were full of tears just threatening to come out. As much as I didn’t want to cry over Micah ever again, it wasn’t completely because of him. The mere thought that I could be trapped somewhere again and tied up absolutely horrified me to my core. Charles was off at the reservation, Arthur was heading over to the reservation, and Sean was keeping watch, therefore it wasn’t as if they could help me out. I wasn’t in a constant run; not everyone was aware what Micah was trying to do. Finally, I ran by Lenny and he was able to put the pieces together on his own.

“The hell are you doin’?” he asked, stopping Micah from chasing me any further.  
“Watch who you’re touchin’, boy,” Micah threatened as he slapped Lenny’s hand away. “I’m just playin’ a little old game with our princess, here.”  
“You’re disgusting!” I snapped.  
“First of all, Evie ain’t a princess,” Lenny retorted. “Second of all, tyin’ someone up ain’t a game.”  
“Well, well, well, if you ain’t Evangeline’s white knight in shinin’ armour,” Micah snorted. “Hm... More like a black knight, really.”  
“Get lost, Micah.”  
“Take it easy, kid.”

We both waited until he was back at the table in front of Dutch’s tent to look at each other. I looked at his tent and realized he had some things packed away. He didn’t have many things like most of us, but it was still evident when someone had put there things away. Reverend Swanson was gone, no one knew where he went, but he’d tried his best to convince the remaining ladies and I to leave with him. Trelawny was gone, too. Arthur said they’d said goodbye, but no one else knew he was gone for good until Arthur told me. I looked back at Lenny.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” he said, sounding a bit nervous. “It’s dangerous for someone like me out there, but--”  
“No, Lenny,” I sighed. “Where are you going to go?”  
“Anywhere but here. I don’t wanna ask you for nothin’--”  
“You can go to my home in Arkansas if you’d like. It’s just some people might think you’re a servant.”  
“I’d rather be mistaken for a servant than get killed ’cause of Dutch’s bullshit.”  
“That-That’s... You make a good point. Let me write you a note to give to Beth. She’s, er, one of the maids there. And I’ll show you on the map where to go.”  
“Thanks, Evie.”

I had to think about how many bedrooms at my house there were. There was Cornelius’ old bedroom, my bedroom, two more bedrooms upstairs, and the servants quarters in the refurbished basement. I didn’t know how many rooms were down there, but hopefully Beth and the other maids would be okay with allowing Lenny to sleep in one of the rooms upstairs. I made it perfectly clear in my letter that he was _not_ there to work, but rather to hide.

“You’re a nice lady, Evie,” he said when I handed it to him.  
“You know you’re not a bad person, right, Lenny?” I wondered.  
“Not a bad person, but not a good person, neither.”  
“Travel safely and I’ll see you soon, I hope. Get going before Micah or Dutch starts something. Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot.”

While Lenny got ready with his horse, I got some money out of Maple’s saddlebag and counted enough out for him. Like with Mary Beth and Kieran, I wasn’t going to let him camp when I could afford to let them get hotel rooms on the way to Arkansas. I didn’t know how far it was from where we were, but it had to be longer than a day and a half like when Dutch took me to Blackwater. We didn’t say anything else to each other; he just went on his way. Turning around, I could tell that Dutch knew what just happened with Lenny and I.

“Miss Locke, get over here!” he shouted.

I blinked at him and then wandered in the opposite direction to help Abigail darn the socks that needed to be done. Even though I was pretending to be busy, Dutch kept shouting and calling for me to go see him. Still, I ignored him, much to the slight amusement of Abigail.

“I know you can hear me, God dammit!” he called.  
“Just because I can hear you doesn’t mean I’m going to listen!” I called back. “Oh...”

I wrapped an arm around my stomach, suddenly feeling faint and sick.

“You should rest,” Abigail suggested. “All the worryin’ ain’t good for you.”  
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. “I’ll try to stop worrying.”  
“You just got Lenny outta here. Who’s next?”  
“I can’t get through to Karen or Tilly, and I know I can’t talk to Miss Grimshaw about it. You and your family are accounted for. Charles is... It’s Charles; I haven’t been able to convince him to even leave with _me_. I’ve heard Uncle saying he’s never leaving. So I guess... I guess Sean is the only one I can try to talk to.”  
“That boy ain’t leavin’ without you.”

She gave me a side glance; we both knew why he wouldn’t leave without me, but I still needed to try. If Sean MacGuire was so stubborn that a hundred bounty hunters had to keep him from escaping and a knock on the head to capture him, then I really wasn’t going to get through to him. But still, just for the sake that I still loved him, I had to just..._try_. I didn’t know how I was going to try, but I had to. He was still pretending to be loyal to Dutch; when Dutch asked him to do something, he did it. Which is why, after he came back in from keeping watch, he was called over to Dutch’s tent.

“That...can’t be good,” Abigail muttered.  
“Evie, come huntin’ with me!” Sean called over, walking over to Ennis.

I suddenly felt even _worse_. My stomach felt as if I was being stabbed from the inside out. That wasn’t a coincidence that they spoke and then I was being told to leave camp. Still, I set down the sock I was darning and, despite Abigail trying to get me to stay, walked over to Maple. I made sure my gun and my crossbow were fastened properly to the saddle before climbing on top of her. It was Sean; even if I couldn’t trust him enough to be under him, I trusted him enough that he wouldn’t hurt me. My trust in him when we were together wasn’t his fault; it was my own issue to deal with. But if I didn’t trust him at all, I wouldn’t have even bothered getting up from the seat next to Abigail.

“Cougar prints,” I mentioned, pointing at the ground.  
“We ain’t facin’ down a cougar, Evie,” Sean said.  
“What, you scared of a cat?”  
“Yeah; it’s a cat that’ll rip me face off!”  
“Okay, well...” I took my gun and crossbow off my saddle, “there are deer tracks... Assuming the cougar hasn’t eaten it, do you wanna get the deer?”  
“Yes.”

My tracking still wasn’t that great, but Charles had just told me to focus best I could. The way he tracked was amazing to watch, but obviously I had to keep watch for whatever animal we were looking for. Sean and I got to a small clearing before getting off our horses. He stayed behind me while I looked around. The tracks for the deer ended; it looked like the cougar _had_ gotten it. Well, we were in a forest, and there were bound to be more deer or other animals that wouldn’t rip our faces off. I sighed and folded my arms across my chest.

“Evie, I need ya to do somethin’,” Sean suddenly said.  
I turned to look at him. “If you want me to place bait, I don’t have any.”  
“It ain’t about game. Look, you...need to beat me up.”

I stared at him, my eyes widening. Was _he_ losing his mind, too? Why did he think I would just beat him up? No way that was what he talked to Dutch about. I didn’t know what to say to him. What man willingly wanted a _woman_ to beat him up? This was the man who made fun of Javier and Micah for getting beat up by me. I swallowed hard.

“I beg your pardon?” I nearly shouted.  
“Miss Grimshaw is busy, y’know?” Sean muttered. “Dutch figured...you trust me so you’d come with me outta camp and...”  
“You’re not seriously telling me that he wants you to kill me? Am I _that_ problematic?”  
“To him, yeah, and I guess that turd’s been talkin’ to him about ya, too. So...you gotta beat me up to make it look like I couldn’t even--”  
“Holy shit, Sean, I’m not... I can’t... Why does he think you _would_? Because you’re still pretending?”  
“I guess so.”  
“I’m not beating you up.”  
“We’re both out here alone; we could just...leave together, now.”  
“You know why I can’t yet, but I’m still...not... Sean?”

It felt like my heart was going to burst from my chest. I was horrified. I felt around my body to grab my gun or my crossbow. Sean looked confused, that is until the cougar behind him growled. Now he didn’t look like he could move. I’d never actually seen a cougar; just photos of what they and their footprints looked like. I was able to shove Sean out of the way right before the cougar lunged forward; when I shot my crossbow, for once in a very long time I missed. I screamed as the cougar pounced on top of me. Whatever strength I had, I pushed against it to keep it from my face. Its claws did manage to rip into the shoulders of my shirt and the sides of my torso. I could feel the stinging pain of the cool air against the cuts it was creating. It felt like forever, even though it must have only been seconds, until Sean grabbed his rifle from Ennis and shot the cougar. I shoved it away from me, panting.

“Evie?!” I heard Sadie shout. “Sean?! You out here?!”  
“Down here!” Sean called.  
“That was...” I stammered as he looked where the cougar clawed me. “Huh...”

Sadie came running down the hill, nearly tripping over her own two feet once she got to the bottom. She looked at the cougar, at Sean, and then at me.

“Shit,” she snapped. “Karen overheard what Dutch told Sean to do and she told me. Now let me tell ya, when I heard ya scream and then there was a gunshot...”  
“How bad is it?” I groaned as she helped me up. “Ow, fuck!”  
“Ain’t nothin’ a few stitches won’t fix, but that means you gotta rest again.”  
“I ain’t gonna hurt you, Evie,” Sean reassured me.  
“I know.” Swallowing hard, I pat him on the shoulder. “I know. And I’m still not beating you up.”  
“What the _hell_ did I miss?” Sadie demanded.  
“Nothing. Sean wanted me to beat him up so it looks like I bested him to Dutch and I’d return to camp just fine.”  
“You beat me up,” Sean said, looking at Sadie.  
“Excuse me?” Sadie asked.  
“Y’know...so it looks like Evie still beat me up when she found out I was s’posed to kill her.”  
“Don’t do that!” I snapped. “_Ow, shit_!”  
“You keep quiet.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “Then how are we gonna explain what she looks like?”  
“She still got attacked by a cougar...” Sean mumbled. “But..._after_...she beat me up.”

Sadie helped me over to the other side of a large tree. I looked at her like she was insane. She was really going to do that? All she told me to do was stay where I was and to cover my ears if I needed to. I wasn’t even allowed to argue about it, either.

“It ain’t gonna take long,” she said before going back to where Sean was waiting.

I jumped when I heard Sean groan in pain and immediately covered my ears. That really wasn’t something I wanted to listen to. I couldn’t understand why he was so willing to be beat up. He could claim it was because he loved me and didn’t want to hurt me all he wanted, but why would _anyone_ want to hurt themselves for the other person? It was different when I hurt myself; I wasn’t doing it for anyone else besides myself. It was a good few moments until Sadie came back to me.

“You gotta stay here for a bit, Sean,” she mentioned.  
“Great,” he groaned.

He was going to have some bruising on his face and his lip was bleeding. Sadie really went to work on him; I didn’t think he’d be able to get up on his own. I at least wanted to help him to his feet so he could rest against a tree. Even if I was in so much pain thanks to the cougar, I did what I wanted to. Just to make it seem like I _had_ been the one to beat him up, Sean grabbed my hands and held my fists against any bloody areas. Now, that I had _not_ wanted to do, but I understood his caution. Sadie helped me up onto Maple and climbed up in front of me. We left Sean where he was and headed back up the hill; she whistled for Bob to follow us back to camp.

“Good lord!” Susan exclaimed when she saw me. “What happened to you?”

Sadie helped me down from Maple and looked at Susan like she should already know the answer. It was a matter of whether or not Dutch told her what was going on between Sean and I. I was fighting back tears, from the pain of the cuts and the feeling of actually being betrayed. I could never think Dutch could set something up like that.

“Miss Locke, you returned,” Dutch mentioned, walking up to us. His expression hardened when he saw my cuts. “What happened?”  
“First it was beating up Sean and then it was getting attacked by a cougar,” I replied, choking back tears.  
“You beat up Sean?”  
“Priorities, Dutch!” Susan snapped. “You come on over here, Evie, I’ll help ya get cleaned up.”  
“I’d prefer if Sadie helped,” I admitted. “N-No offence to you, Miss Grimshaw.”  
“Of course.”

As Susan walked away, I looked back up at Dutch. He was doing his best to look composed, but I could tell he was trying to think of another way to get rid of me.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve that, Dutch,” I told him. “Sean told me what you asked him to do. Whatever I did, I don’t think _that_ was the solution to it. I’ll stay out of your way and Micah’s from now on, okay? I’m... Whatever it was, I’m sorry that you thought the only way to fix it was this way, and...I’ll...I’ll be good. I promise.”  
“C’mon,” Sadie murmured, leading me over to where Abigail was.  
“What the hell happened to you?” she shouted. “I told ya not to go.”  
“Dutch wanted Sean to get rid of her and then a cougar attacked her.”  
“First John, now you? This ain’t right, Evie -- you gotta go--”  
“I’m not leaving without Charles,” I interrupted.  
“Sean didn’t...he didn’t hurt ya, did he?”

Sadie leaned over to Abigail and quietly told her what happened.

“Evie, you ain’t gotta say ‘sorry’,” she gasped. “There ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for!”  
I finally started crying. “Then why did he think that was okay? Clearly I did something so bad that he thought I needed to be killed, and by the man I used to sleep with, no less.”  
“There ain’t no point in askin’ ‘why’,” Sadie sighed as she cleaned the cuts. “We know _why_.”

Micah was “why”. The running for months was “why”. All the failed so-called, supposed “plans” were “why”. Dutch not getting his way anymore all the time was “why”. The gang falling apart was “why”. None of them were valid enough excuses for him to look at someone, see they needed help or were in trouble, and think the best way to get them to stop behaving the way they did was by killing them. I was scared. More scared than I was before. I couldn’t help but think if Sean didn’t love me, or like me any way shape or form, would he have actually done it? I wanted to think that he wouldn’t.

“Either of you know when Charles should be back?” I sniffled.  
“Hopefully soon,” Abigail replied. “If he ain’t back tonight, you can sleep with me and Jack. John’s got watch all night, so there’s enough room.”

Sean rode back into camp; he’d been smart enough to bring the cougar, too. After handing it into Pearson, he rubbed his chin and then spit what looked like a tooth out. I looked at Sadie; she had _really_ beaten him up that bad. Well...technically “I” did, according to our story. The only issue now was that I was going to have to pretend to hate Sean and stay away from him, lest Dutch figure out there was something weird going on.  
♞♞♞

“Hey,” I mumbled as I came out of John’s tent in the morning. “When did you get back, Charles?”  
“Just now,” Charles replied. “You okay? Sadie told me what happened.”  
“I’m...scared, but I’ll be fine. I think I just need another small break from camp. How is Rains Fall and the rest of the reservation?”  
“Well...me and Arthur broke Eagle Flies out of Fort Wallace, so things ain’t any better than they already were. Probably even worse.”  
“I didn’t know Eagle Flies was taken into custody. How did that happen?”

Charles looked over and I followed his gaze. It had been because of Dutch. Of course; why didn’t I know? What was it for this time? More smoke? I sighed and moved closer to Charles.

“We should both go to the reservation and stay there,” I said quietly.  
“No,” he replied. “You ain’t getting involved with the army, too. By bein’ there, you’d put a target on your back. Some of their women were assaulted the other day and the army is takin’ the children and some women to reform schools. You’ve been through enough.”  
“If you won’t let me do that, then can we please spend a day together in Saint Denis? I know you want privacy, but--”

He knelt down slightly and kissed me. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so out in the open, but it was the first time in front of people. Kissing the side of my head in front of someone else was completely different than kissing me on the lips in front of people. He pulled away when Karen started shouting.

“Yes, Evie!” she shouted. “_Get it_!”

She was so drunk. Again.

“We can go,” Charles agreed.  
“Wait, really?” I asked excitedly.  
He sighed. “It ain’t like it’s gonna kill anybody if we go. And, like you said, you need a break.”  
“It doesn’t have to be Saint Denis...”  
“I’m fine goin’ back.”

We let Sadie and Abigail know where we were going and we headed out toward Saint Denis. I quite liked the city, really; it was better than any place I’d been in. Rhodes had been quaint, but I didn’t like the blistering heat and how difficult it was to breathe. The camp had been my favourite, though. Saint Denis just felt like I belonged, somehow. Even if there were many people and it was industrial, it was beautiful. I’d never be able to live in such a place, but visiting clearly wasn’t out of the question.

“I know I should be resting,” I admitted, hitching Maple up.  
“You should be,” Charles agreed. “But just take it easy.”  
“Can we get a picture taken? I’d like to have a locket.”  
“A photo?”

He sighed and looked at the photographer’s front door. I could tell he was hesitant. He had a right to be, but after a moment of looking, I spoke up again.

“I’ve heard they have good food somewhere around here instead,” I said nervously. “Um...I’m not sure which way is, though...”  
“Let’s get you that photo,” he suddenly said, grabbing my hand.

He led me into the photographer’s studio, despite my saying that it was fine if we didn’t do it. Still, he remained insistent, but he didn’t tell me why he had seemingly changed his mind. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it in the first place. Maybe he was cutting me a bigger break than he usually did. Or...or maybe it was because of something else. Still, while we were getting our photo taken, I wrapped my arm around Charles’ and waited. The light flashed and I backed away to be able to see properly again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“I’ve had photos taken of me all my life and I’ve never gotten used to that part,” I admitted, rubbing my eyes.  
“I ain’t had one taken of me in a long time. What else do you wanna do?”

The photographer handed us a small photo that could be put into a locket like I requested and two bigger ones that could be framed.

“Go look for things to put these in, I suppose,” I mumbled sheepishly.

The day went so quickly after that. I didn’t realize that it was the evening until we sat outside a nice little bakery. I was dreading going back to camp with it feeling so soon. Taking very small bites of the French pastry in front of me, I thought about what else to do that could keep us, or at least myself, away from camp for just a little bit longer. It went without saying that I was scared, and possibly even paranoid, and it may have been a bit irrational to think I could stay away for so long when things were going horribly. Maybe not only did I want a break from camp, but maybe I just wanted some peace with Charles. The last time we were in Saint Denis, it had been for a different reason; it was also where he told me he loved me. It was also far enough away from camp but not so far it took a long time to travel to. If we needed to hurry back, we could.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, a little boy ran by, throwing a ball up in the air. He ended up dropping it and it rolled over to where Charles and I were sitting. Charles set down the coffee he was drinking, mentioning he would take the ball back to the boy. Instead, the boy ran over as he did pick it up. The boy looked at me and then at Charles, before taking it from him.

“_Merci_,” he said with a smile.  
“_De rien_,” I told him, and he ran off.  
“I...didn’t realize you could speak French...” Charles admitted.  
“I speak very little. I’m hardly passable. I know how to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and ‘you’re welcome’, which you just heard. Um...I know how to ask for help... That’s about it.”

We’d spoken about having a future together, but seeing that little boy made me think of something. If it hadn’t been for Colm, I’d be toting around a baby with me; or I’d possibly be stuck in camp all the time caring for it. Caring for a baby wasn’t a bad thing, of course, but I wouldn’t have been able to go hunting or camping or to the reservation or even go for a horseback ride. And if I did have my baby, would Dutch still be there for me or would he only care for the baby sometimes? Would Sean or Charles even have bothered falling for me?

“I’ve asked this before, but...you want a future with me, right?” I quietly asked.  
“Yes,” he replied, albeit it sounded like he was cautious. “Why do you ask?”  
I swallowed hard. “Do you...er...do you want children?”  
“Of course I do.”  
“What if I can’t give you any?”

I looked at him, holding my breath. He didn’t seem at all fazed by my question. My question wasn’t an everyday question anyone was expecting to hear. Well, maybe he’d thought about it before and kept it to himself. Charles was quiet for a few minutes. If he had thought about it, maybe he’d never even come to the answer for himself. Just what if I couldn’t give him a child or two? Would he still love me enough to stay with me or would he want to find a different woman who could give him some?

“I only ask because I would hate for you to have to live a life that is, I don’t know, unfulfilled in your eyes,” I stated, looking back down at the table.  
“This have to do with Colm?” he asked.  
“Quite... I never met the baby, but I loved it, even if its father turned out to be what he is, and I can’t help but think... What if I can’t give you any? What if that one baby was my only chance at being a mother and letting someone be a father? And... And if I can have another baby, what if I can’t love it the same way I loved that one?”  
“Havin’ a child ain’t a deal breaker. Not for me, at least. I might be disappointed, but that ain’t your fault if you can’t have any. I’ve thought about it. It don’t make me love you any less. We could always find somethin’ else to be happy over, other than each other.”  
“Wow.” I sniffled. “You’re so great. What the hell did I do to deserve you?”

We finished up at the bakery and headed back in the direction Maple and Taima were in. Out of nowhere, Charles pulled me into an alleyway, pressed me up against the wall, and kissed me. As unexpected as it was, I kissed him back. It was only but a moment until he pulled away.

“What was that for?” I breathed.  
“It was because I love you, Evie,” he said, matter-of-factly.  
“In...Instead of going back to camp tonight, can we...can we get a hotel room?”

He nodded, and we headed over to one of the hotels. The door to the room was barely even closed before I grabbed Charles. He knew exactly what I wanted and he knew I wanted it right then. He kissed my neck as he removed my dress and then moved onto my shoulders, avoiding the claw marks. I grasped the front of his shirt, pressing up against him.

“Y...You don’t have to be gentle this time...” I told him quietly.

Still, even if I did say that, once he got me onto the bed and took me, he remained gentle, possibly more gentle than usual. He held my hands as he kissed me, even. I did my best to be as quiet as I could -- even if we weren’t in camp -- but a whimper or a gasp would escape every now and again. Every time we had sex, there was something about it that I just couldn’t explain. Something that just made it feel _right_, and I didn’t understand what that was. Being with him, skin to skin, was different, somehow, to just being around him or just kissing or holding hands or sleeping next to each other. I had to wonder if he felt the same way I did.

“Evie, you okay?” he asked when I began crying.  
“I-I’m fine,” I stammered. “Really, I am.”  
“I’ll stop if you need me to.”  
“You’re not hurting me and I’m not scared. I’m sorry for all the questions earlier.”  
“Stop worryin’ about that.”  
“Do... Do you wanna stop?”  
“If you’re upset or not comfortable, then yes, Evie.”  
“I’ll be okay.”  
♞♞♞

“Hey,” Sadie said excitedly when I got off Maple the next afternoon. She watched Charles get off Taima, kiss the side of my head, and then wander off into camp. “Everythin’ okay with Charles?”  
“Yes,” I replied, confused. “Um... Yes? Why do you ask?”  
She shrugged, a wry smile on her face as she turned around. “Just askin’. You look like you didn’t sleep last night. Go get some rest.”

There were two men in camp that I didn’t recognize. I quickly grabbed Sadie’s arm.

“Who’s that?” I asked.  
“Friends of Micah’s,” she explained, disgusted. “Really, darlin’, go get some rest.”

I nodded nervously and headed over to my tent. I was just about to open the flaps to head inside, when I felt a gun pressing against my back. He didn’t even need to say anything; I just knew it was Micah. I almost was about to protest, but he spoke first.

“I don’t think so, princess,” he mocked. “You ain’t gonna break your promise to Dutch so soon, now, are ya?”  
“N-No...” I whimpered.  
“Good. In you go, then.”

I knew what he wanted already and he was using my promise to Dutch against me. Why did Dutch even have to tell him about the promise? I was beginning to feel sick again, just from knowing what Micah was going to do to me. I should have just let that cougar kill me and let that be the end of it. At least then, I didn’t die for nothing. I at least was feeding an animal. I tried my best to keep my crying as quiet as possible and I didn’t even bother trying to push him away from me as he did what he pleased. Much to his annoyance, however, I didn’t finish, no matter how much and what he tried. He’d held my finishing while drunk with him over my head for so long; no more. I supposed that maybe he wanted to try to make me finish sober so he could hold that above my head, too. I was only so lucky that he didn’t last for a very long time.

“Why didn’t you _finish_?” he muttered angrily.  
“I say this without any sarcasm -- I can’t _make_ myself finish if I’m not into it,” I said quietly.

Micah rolled his eyes and backed off; after fixing himself up, he dug around in his pockets, and proceeded to put the bullets back into his gun. I could feel my face become hot from anger as I backed up against the back of the tent.

“It was empty?” I choked out, tears beginning to stream down my face.  
“Sure,” he replied with a snort. “Don’t wanna kill the princess by accident.”

He pat my cheek and finally left me alone. I placed my hand on my chest, beginning to breathe heavily. Why had that just happened? _How_ could I have let that happen? I pulled the sleeves of my dress up and pulled the skirt up slightly and began scratching as hard as I could without immediately breaking into my skin. It didn’t take long to break through, though, and to begin bleeding. As much as it stung to continue scratching, I did so, anyway. There were thin lines of blood spread apart on my arms and legs.

“Evie!” Arthur called. “You in there?”

I didn’t realize that he was calling for me until he opened the flap of the tent. He’d seen Micah come out and decided to investigate. I doubted Micah gave him a truthful answer; he’d probably been sarcastic about what he’d done. Arthur came in to help me over to where Abigail and Sadie were, but I started screaming and crying harder.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, backing away. “Okay, okay.”  
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted.

My screaming had made Sadie come running. She made Arthur step out of the way before kneeling in front of me and pulling me into a tight hug. I sobbed and hugged her back, just as tight, if not tighter. Abigail showed up with Charles, who I, unfortunately, screamed at for the first time.

“What happened here?” Sadie asked, still hugging me.  
“Micah,” Arthur said as if the answer should have been obvious.  
“He _didn’t_.”  
“He sure as shit _did_.”

It wasn’t long until I heard Charles and Micah getting into it. I couldn’t exactly understand what they were yelling at each other, due to the fact that they were talking over each other, but I could tell that Charles was angrier than Micah was. I ripped myself away from Sadie and began scratching again.

“Evie, don’t do that,” she scolded as she grabbed my arms. “You’re... Oh.”

She was finally able to see my scars from the cabin on my legs and my arms amidst the bleeding. She was the first person in the camp, other than Charles, to _really_ see them. The only other people in general who saw them, the ones on my arms at least, were the Indians at Wapiti.

“You should go, Arthur,” Sadie suggested.

Arthur left and Abigail took his place.

“I-I wanted Charles to hurt me last night,” I sniffled.  
“He’d never,” Sadie muttered.  
“Why would ya want him to?” Abigail demanded.  
“Because I deserve to be hurt!” I retorted, looking from her to Sadie. “Right?”

The two of them looked at each other, a look of disappointment on their faces. I swallowed hard, waiting for at least one of them to answer.

“_Right_?” I snapped.  
“Now...what in the hell makes you think that?” Sadie wondered, looking back at me.  
“Because I’m the one who’s always getting hurt. I’m the one who keeps getting taken advantage of or hit or punched or threatened. Is there something wrong with me?” I started sobbing harder. “What is it about me that makes people want to do these things to me? I...I told Dutch that I would be good and that I’d stay out of their way and-and then _this_ happens? My baby and Daddy are dead and all of the things that happened at the cabin _happened_ \-- why isn’t that enough? Who decided that I had to be this hurt?”  
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you,” Abigail tried to reassure me, sitting on her knees in front of me, next to Sadie. “Some people...they’re just bad people.”  
“Then why are the bad people always coming to _me_? Am-Am I broken or--”  
“You ain’t broken,” Sadie said.

She finally let my arms go and I pulled my sleeves back down. I wiped at my eyes, trying to get my crying under control. My stomach suddenly began hurting again. This time, I knew it wasn’t just a _feeling_.

“I-I’m gonna be sick,” I breathed, getting to my feet and running out of my tent.

Sadie soon found me on my knees in the bushes as I threw up. She held my hair back as I did so. I was in so much pain, physically and emotionally. It felt like forever until I was able to stand back up. Still, I was shaking and I was worried that I might have started again at any moment. I cleaned myself up best I could and wrapped my arms in the extra bandages the Indians had given to me, just in case. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to find Charles.

“Um...” I mumbled, catching his attention.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation? What was anyone supposed to do? I knew I wanted to apologize to Charles, but I’d never screamed at him before. I’d never even raised my voice to him. He’d not deserved that. According to Sadie, I was so caught up in my head that I couldn’t differentiate -- not quite the word she used -- the men who cared about me from the one man who consistently managed to hurt me in camp.

“I’m...I’m so sorry...” I choked out.  
“You got scared,” he said, still sounding angry from his fight with Micah. “It wouldn’t be right if I got mad about it.”  
“Aren’t you upset?”  
“I was...confused, until I found out what happened.”

I knew then I should have left a long time ago, even before Sean even asked if I would consider running away with him. But I was too damn stubborn to leave without Charles. There was no way I would have forgiven myself if I got out, but he got badly hurt or even killed. Maybe it didn’t make sense to other people, maybe it didn’t even make sense to _him_, but I felt guilty for even thinking about leaving without him.

Charles sighed, set down the axe he was using to chop wood, and walked over to where I was standing. I’d given myself a good enough distance from him, having once read not to walk up behind someone with an axe, much less a possibly _angry_ person with an axe. I hesitantly began to hug him, but instead he pulled me into a tight embrace. It was nice to know he wasn’t upset with me that I’d screamed the way I had; but I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided to be. Really, what did I do to deserve him?

“I’m really sorry,” I told him.  
“Ssh.”

We stood there while we just hugged each other. It had been a great day so far coming back from Saint Denis, and it had been an even better day the day before, including the evening. It was incredibly stressful to me to try and understand how things could go so bad so quickly.

“I’ll...go ask Sadie if she’ll sit with me while I rest,” I mumbled.  
“Okay,” Charles said, pulling away. “If you need me, I’ll be here.”

I headed toward where Sadie was standing, smoking a cigarette, when Susan called out to me.

“Oh, Miss Locke, since you’re headin’ over that way, could ya hand this over to Dutch?” she asked.

She handed me Dutch’s jacket. I didn’t question her as to why she was fixing his jacket in such hot weather -- maybe to have it done by the time cold weather came back around, but I digressed. I went over to Sadie and asked her to come with me, and then to sit with me. She put her cigarette out and nodded.

“Here, Dutch,” I said, holding the jacket out. “Miss Grimshaw asked me to give this to you.”  
“Thanks.” Dutch took it from me and set it on top of a box.

Sadie and I headed in the direction of my tent, but we both stopped when I was grabbed from behind. I turned around, horrified, upon the realization that it wasn’t Micah, but the incredibly skinny man who was apparently one of his friends. Since she knew I wasn’t going to fight back because of my being scared of the promise, she grabbed her knife and swiftly stabbed the man in the palm of his hand, pinning it to the table. I immediately put my hands up like I was surrendering to show that it wasn’t me who did it.

“Evangeline, what the hell did ya do this time?!” Dutch shouted, causing me to jump, and then turned to look at us.  
“It wasn’t me, I swear,” I complained.  
“Nah, it was this bitch in the yellow,” the man groaned as he pulled the knife out of his hand.  
“Sure as hell was,” Sadie said proudly, grabbing the knife back. “Didn’t your mama teach you no manners?”

I put my arms back down at my side, nervously looking around.

“Look, lady, you can’t put a woman who looks like _that_ in front of a man and expect ’em not to do nothin’,” the other man said.  
“She’s a lady, not a piece of meat,” Sadie said, disgusted. “And my name is _Sadie_. C’mon, Evie, you need your rest.”  
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked quietly as she walked me away from them.  
“We already told ya; nothin’. They’re just pigs. Try to relax and rest for a few hours.”

Sadie came into the tent after me. I grabbed the bison blanket and crawled underneath it to block out the sun. It was hot, but I didn’t want to be looked at while I slept. Completely arbitrary to the fact I wanted Sadie to sit with me and watch over me as I did so, but that didn’t mean I had to have even my face exposed to her. I didn’t know what she would be doing for a few hours while all she did was sit with me. If she thought what I asked of her would be boring, she could have just said “no” or asked someone else to do it for her. Charles was doing chores around camp, otherwise I would have asked him to watch me. And Sean... I couldn’t ask Sean for anything since we had to make it seem like I hated him for what he was supposed to do.

I woke up a few hours later and peeked out from underneath the blanket; Sadie was whittling. She saw I was awake and put her knife and the piece of wood away with a sigh.

“Sleep okay?” she wondered.  
“I’m fine,” I replied, my voice clearly muffled.  
“You gonna get up? Hungry or anythin’?”  
“No.”  
She let out a distressed sigh. “What a day. C’mon, let’s get ya around the campfire, at least.”

I followed her out of my tent and over to the fire, where Charles was sitting with John, Sean, and Abigail. Charles took it upon himself to wrap an arm around my shoulders and let me lean against him. Sadie was right; what a day it had been. I really could have used a drink, or twenty, but I didn’t want to get riled up and cause problems that would only lead to me getting hurt again. I didn’t know how much more pain like that I could take.

Arthur walked past us, sounding like he was holding in a rather violent cough. He was going to talk to Dutch about something. I wrapped my arms around Charles and gave him a squeeze. With the camp losing more and more members, it just began to feel more empty. Some other people were coming to their senses -- Pearson, Karen -- and realizing that they didn’t want to die in a place like we were in, over some crap Micah got Dutch into, which led to him getting us into that same crap.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Eagle Flies shouting for Dutch. It was startling, really; seeing twenty Indians riding into our camp on horses, dressed like they were going to war, with war paint and everything. He and Dutch were taking it too far; mostly Dutch, for encouraging Eagle Flies to pursue something they couldn’t possibly win. Amidst the shouting from the Indians, Rains Fall came in through the other side of camp to try and get his son to reconsiders. Everyone in camp was up and listening now. I swallowed hard and held onto Charles tightly. Rains Fall’s begging for his son to give up a battle that couldn’t be won seemed to fall on deaf ears. It reminded me of how stubborn I was when Cornelius tried to get me to return with him to a normal life.

Eagle Flies left with his fellow tribe members, which only left Rains Fall to ask Arthur and Charles for help again, which led to Dutch agreeing to help, too, even though he hadn’t been asked. I didn’t know what to think. I pulled on Charles’ arm.

“Please don’t go,” I begged when he looked at me. “Don’t.”  
“You know I have to,” he replied.  
“Then...Then I’m coming, too.”  
“No, Evie. You ain’t getting involved in this.”  
“Charles.”  
“I’m going. Please accept that.”

It took me a few seconds until I nodded.

“I love you, okay?” he said.  
“I love you, too,” I sniffled.

He kissed and hugged me before running over to Taima so he could join everyone else. I looked around the camp; it felt so empty now that almost everyone was going to help Eagle Flies. There really was no use just standing where I was, watching the entrance to the camp to wait for them to come back. That would take hours. With Dutch, Micah, Javier, and Bill not in camp, though, Sean was able to talk to me again without us being found out.

“He’s gonna be fine,” he said.  
“I hope you’re right,” I replied.  
♞♞♞

Dutch and the others returned to camp, with the exception of Arthur and Charles. My heart felt like it dropped into my stomach when I realized they weren’t with the group. I didn’t want to ask where the two of them were, at least not ask Dutch. I stayed sitting at the campfire for a long time, just thinking. John and Sadie seemed rather angry about something, but what? Eventually both of them came to sit with me.

“Arthur’s went with Charles to take Eagle Flies back to his father,” John explained.  
“They’ll be back soon,” Sadie assured me, holding my hand. “There ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”  
“Sadie.”  
“Uh, er, Eagle Flies... Well... He got shot.”  
“Oh, no,” I whined.

I leaned against Sadie. Charles and Rains Fall had tried to tell Eagle Flies that things would turn out badly in the end, and it had. I could only hope that somehow he would pull through from his wound, wherever it was. If he’d died, Sadie and John would have told me right away. Even still after getting such news, I didn’t move from where I was, not even when they left my side and left me with Abigail.

“Tahiti is comin’ up real soon,” Dutch said, wandering up to me.  
I blinked up at him. “Beg your pardon?”  
“I said, we’re goin’ to Tahiti real soon. That alright with you, Miss Locke?”  
“Yes.” I thought for a moment. “I’ve never had a mango before.”  
“In due time, Miss Locke.” He pat my shoulders. “In due time.”

Evening quickly came, and Arthur still wasn’t back in camp. I was sure he would have ridden his horse harder than usual to get back even faster. Well, he was sick, and I could understand why he had to take it easy. Maybe he should have ridden his horse into Valentine and taken a stagecoach from there into Annesberg and then taken his horse the rest of the way. Abigail looked at me as I shifted on the log of wood. I was getting restless. Charles _definitely_ should have been back already. He couldn’t... He wouldn’t...

“Oh, honey, don’t cry,” Abigail said, coming to sit by me. “Everythin’ is gonna be fine. Just fine!”

It was mid afternoon of the next day that Arthur finally came back; Charles wasn’t with him like I’d somehow hoped. Dutch was busy speaking with Micah, and so when Arthur spotted me, he waved me over to where the horses were hitched up. I hesitantly went over.

“Where is he?” I asked.  
“He, uh...” Arthur let out a muffled cough. “He’s helpin’ the Indians move. Charles ain’t...” He sighed, like it was hard for him to tell me. “Charles ain’t comin’ back.”  
“What? What do you mean he’s not coming back?”  
“This -- all of this -- he’s done with it. The bullshit part of it. He told me to tell you he loves you and that he’s real sorry.”

I nodded, biting my lip to keep myself from crying again. At least he was alive, right? He wasn’t with me, but he was alive, and he was helping his people. Arthur suddenly grabbed me by the waist and put me on top of Maple.

“It’s time you got outta here,” he said before I could protest. “MacGuire! Get over here!”  
“Arthur?” I sniffled.  
“What d’ya want, Arthur?” Sean asked.  
Arthur pointed at me. “You take this girl away from here and you keep her safe, ya hear me, boy?”  
“Uh...what?”  
“You deaf, MacGuire?”  
“Take Evie. Keep her safe. Right?”  
“Shut up and get on your goddamn horse.”  
“Arthur, I--” I began protesting.  
“Stop bein’ so damn stubborn and get the hell outta here. Go, live your life, try and forget this shit ever happened.”  
“Okay, but--”  
“Ain’t no ‘buts’ about it, Evie!”  
“My crossbow and my gun are in my tent, and I need the blanket Charles made me. I’m not leaving without any of those things.”  
“For Christ’s sake...”

Arthur stormed over to my tent; I was able to completely understand why he wanted me to leave quickly. Sooner or later, Dutch or Micah, or one of the others, would notice that Sean and I were mounted and try and see what was going on. The longer it took for me to get out of camp, the more likely it was that we’d be caught. He quickly emerged with the things I asked for, including my needlepoint. Arthur laid out the blanket behind me and placed my crossbow and gun on my saddle, and placed the needlepoint into the saddlebag. Sadie quickly ran over.

“You send a letter when you get home, okay?” she demanded. “Ain’t gotta address it to Tacitus or...whoever the hell; just send it to Sadie Adler. Send it into Saint Denis.”  
“Thank you,” I breathed. “Both of you.”

Arthur wouldn’t let me hug him -- for good and obvious reasons -- but I was able to lean down and hug Sadie tightly.

“You take good care of this girl, you got that?” she said to Sean as she backed away.  
“I got it,” he sighed.  
“Get outta here, now,” Arthur repeated. “You both live a good life. Stay outta trouble.”


	36. Chapter 36

I looked back in the wagon at the coffin. I’d asked Sean to help me bring Cornelius home; it wasn’t a too demanding task, but the smell had been something unlike I’d ever smelled before. Still, I knew that my father wouldn’t have wanted to stay where he’d been buried forever. He loved Arkansas and he loved our family home. Besides, my grandparents, his mother and father, were buried in the backyard, and that’s where I was going to bury him one last time. I didn’t know if Father O’Malley would agree to it or not, but I was definitely wondering if he would do my father a last service and lead a proper funeral. Even if I no longer believed in such things, Cornelius still believed all the way to the end of his life. I turned back around with a sigh.

“Alright?” Sean asked.  
“Yes and no,” I admitted.  
“All that turned into a mess.”  
“I should be asking if you’re alright. That was your family and everything was falling apart.”  
“Sure, it was me family. But I ain’t dyin’ ’cause Dutch chose to listen to some arsehole.”  
“You need to drop me across the river outside Blackwater.”

Sean tugged on the reins, stopping the wagon. He looked at me like I’d finally lost my mind, too. Maple and Ennis even almost ran right into the back of the wagon because he’d stopped so suddenly.

“All my jewellery is still there,” I told him.  
“We just got outta bein’ killed and now you wanna go back _there_ for some earrings and necklaces?” he snapped.  
“Well, do you have something better?”  
“_Jesus Christ_, there’s a shortcut to the camp so I don’t gotta leave ya alone or go through the town.” Then he muttered, “Drop her off...”  
“I heard that.”  
“Good.”  
“And it’s _more_ than just a few earrings and necklaces.”

He was able to get us as close to the old Blackwater camp as possible. I was told to stay and watch the wagon while he went to grab the trunk of jewellery. Being alone near the place it all started felt...strange, somehow. All the cold shoulders just because I was rich, the belittling, the fighting...losing my baby. I bit my lip and looked around for Sean. He’d just left and wouldn’t be back for a good few moments. Maybe going back for the jewellery was a bad idea after all. Just as I was contemplating getting off the wagon, Sean emerged from the trees with my travelling trunk.

“I wish I could be around to see Micah’s face when he comes back for it and sees it ain’t here,” Sean said.  
“He was going to come back for _my_ jewellery?” I snapped. “_Of course_ he was. Son of a bitch...”

Sean secured the trunk so it was hidden between the top of the coffin and behind the seat of the wagon before climbing over the seat and sitting back down next to me.

“Anythin’ else ya want?” he sighed.  
“Don’t take that tone with me, Sean MacGuire,” I retorted. “What I want now is to go home, so let’s go.”  
“Whatever you say.”

Because it was no longer winter and all the snow was long past melted, it wouldn’t take as long to get home. It was still just under a day’s travel, but it was doable. We’d stayed in an abandoned house the night before and set out early in the morning. It felt strange going home. I only hoped it wouldn’t be so temporary. With any luck, we could at least stay there for a few years before anyone realized we were no longer near Lemoyne or West Elizabeth. If anything, I hoped the Pinkertons would think Sean and I got killed in an altercation while we were still with Dutch.

“Mary Beth, Kieran, and Lenny are there,” I mentioned.  
“No kiddin’?” Sean replied.  
“Just until they’re comfortable and able to get on their feet.”  
“Arkansas don’t get snow, does it?”

That sounded more like a statement than a question, but either way I nodded as a response. I explained it was usually hot, except for when it rained, of course, and sometimes it got cold at night. For the most part, it was a nice town, weather-wise.

“What about whiskey?” he said.  
“Does it rain whiskey?” I chuckled. “That would be the day.”  
“No, I mean, what’s the whiskey like?”  
“I don’t know, Sean. I never bought whiskey there. Well,” I inhaled sharply, “I know that it’s rather expensive because they make it themselves. The general store doesn’t have whiskey other than what’s locally made. I’m pretty sure if we looked through Daddy’s liquor supply, we could find something you like.”  
“Someone like him, I’m sure he had expensive taste.”  
“He never drank the liquor we had in camp. It was too cheap for him, is what he said.”

It wasn’t too long until I recognized the road we were on. We were close to home. The closer we got, the more nervous I became. I didn’t know how anyone would react to my showing back home after so many months. Would my friends still be the same, would Father O’Malley not allow me to step inside the church... Would I be run out of town? How were the people of the town treating Mary Beth, Kieran, and Lenny? How would they treat Sean? I needed to quit my worrying, especially since I had just got done worrying about what I was going to do about everyone at camp.

“It ain’t gonna go away that easy,” Sean suddenly told me.  
“Huh?” I stammered.  
“That look on your face. I know what it is you’re worryin’ about.”  
“Everything just got so bad so fast.”  
“Well, I promised Arthur I’d take care of ya, so that’s what I’m gonna do. If that means punchin’ Father Whatever-His-Name-Is, then I’ll do it.”  
I stifled a giggle. “Okay.”

I eventually could see the top of the church from where we were. My heart thumped in my chest; I was so nervous. Going back home to live there was so much different than when Sean, Javier, and I had just gone to take all of my jewellery. It was Sunday, so almost everyone would be in church. We should have been able to get inside the house without any hassle. Once inside the town, we led Maple and Ennis to the front of the family home. I hopped down from the wagon and hitched them up using the porch railing.

“What’re we doin’ with your dad?” Sean wondered.  
“We should--” I began, but I was interrupted by the front door opening.  
“Evie!” Mary Beth exclaimed, running down the steps.

I turned to look at her just as she threw her arms around me. Kieran had come out behind her. They both looked well, that was certain. It must have been a while since either of them had slept in a comfortable bed and had a decent roof over their heads that wasn’t part of a rundown plantation house or a dingy hotel.

“How are you doing?” I asked, hugging Mary Beth back.  
“It ain’t been easy, but I’m doin’ okay,” she replied.  
“Kieran?”  
“’Bout the same. What ended up happenin’?”  
“That Native man Charles was helping died because of Dutch and his awful schemes.”  
“Where’s Charles?” Mary Beth asked.

When I didn’t answer, she took a step back and looked at Kieran. I could tell that she just knew what I meant to say without my using any words. I hoped that Charles would be okay with the Indians and could lead them to a safer home. There was no way of knowing where he was going to end up, and so I had no idea where to send a letter if I wrote one to him.

“Hey, am I a carcass or somethin’?” Sean asked with a teasing voice.

Mary Beth hugged him next.

“Kieran, could you help Sean with something?” I inquired.  
“Of course, Evie,” Kieran replied. “Anythin’ you need.”  
“We dug up Daddy and got him a coffin to bring him home. I wanna bury him in the backyard with his parents. After that we can... Where’s Lenny?”  
Mary Beth giggled. “He’s been followin’ that maid Beth around like a little puppy since he got here.”  
“Let’s get all this done before church lets out.”  
“You ladies go inside,” Sean said. “We got it.”  
“Don’t give Kieran a hard time.”

He handed me the travelling trunk and Mary Beth and I headed inside. I stood in the foyer, looking around. It felt so strange standing in the house knowing I wasn’t going to just leave immediately. After a good moment of just standing there, I went with Mary Beth upstairs. In my old bedroom, it was just like I had left it before leaving with Dutch. Beth must have cleaned it up after Sean, Javier, and I left, and continued to maintain it. I set the trunk on my bed with a sigh.

“Wow, fancy room,” Mary Beth mused.  
“I have so many things,” I mentioned, looking around. “Why did I believe I needed so much? Why did_ Father_ believe I needed so much?”  
“You didn’t know any better.”  
“That might be true. I was so caught up in my own life that I didn’t realize there were actually people who didn’t even have a fourth of what I have. No one needs this much.”  
“But it’s gotta be nice to have, though, right?”

I shrugged. Sure, it was nice. But I didn’t need everything that I could see.

“Would you like anything?” I asked.  
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly,” Mary Beth said. “All this is too fancy, even for me.”  
“You like writing, don’t you?”  
“Sure, I do, but--”

I opened a drawer and took out my collection of fine pens, along with an expensive notebook. It was something I had never used, and so I knew that Mary Beth would get more use out of it than I ever would. I held the pens and the notebook out to her.

“Are you sure?” she wondered.  
“Yes,” I said. “Please, take them.”

She hesitantly took them from me, but nevertheless thanked me. It took her a moment to become excited about the pens and the notebook. I went to look in my closet. The dresses would no longer fit me and I couldn’t imagine trying to get used to a corset again. I would have to figure out what to do with them, that was for sure. The bell that signalled church was being let out rang.

“Miss Tessa?” Beth called as she rounded the corner. “Miss Tessa, you’re back!”  
“Oh, Beth,” I breathed, pulling her into a hug. “Please, you don’t have to call me ‘miss’. And I would like for you to call me Evie.”  
“Anything you’d like.”  
I backed away after a moment. “Would you be so kind as to make over this room for Mary Beth and Kieran?”  
“Is it correct of me to assume that you will be taking Mister Cornelius’ room?”  
“Y...Yes...”  
“Evie, someone’s here to see ya!” Sean called up.

I excused myself and headed downstairs. In the foyer with Sean and Kieran stood my friend Joanna.

“Tessa, how lovely to see you,” she said as she hugged me.  
“Hey,” I mumbled.  
“Good lord, what happened to your face? And it looks like you have put on a bit of weight. Tsk.”

I looked at Sean nervously. He appeared to be annoyed with Joanna, and I could see why. _I_ was feeling rather annoyed with her, too.

“Did you just get back?” she wondered.  
“Yes,” I mumbled. “Oh, er, this is Sean and that’s Kieran.”  
“Pleasure. Listen, Tessa--”  
“Evangeline, please.”  
She sighed, annoyed. Joanna always hated to be interrupted. “Alright. Evangeline, the ladies and I would love to have you for tea. As always, my backyard at two thirty. Welcome home.”

I watched her leave. Did she always talk like that? Did I used to talk like that? She hadn’t sounded that genuine. How did we ever become friends? Was it just a mutual friendship because we were both rich? I shut the door. Sighing, I leaned against it. I suddenly felt so exhausted just by being in her presence.

“You okay, Evie?” Kieran asked.

Even when I behaved the way I did before leaving with Dutch, speaking with Joanna or being in her presence was something else. Everyone always had to watch what they said around her, lest she spark up a rumour that was so scandalous that it was nearly impossible to deny. Truthfully, I didn’t want to go to tea with her, but who knew what she would say if I didn’t show up. We had never really been friends, had we? It was just a social class friendship, which wasn’t a friendship at all. Other than pageants and being rich, what did we have in common?

“You need to get some rest, don’tcha?” Sean asked. “I know you ain’t slept in a few days.”  
“Hey!” Lenny said, coming out of the kitchen.  
“What are you doing in there?” I gasped. “You’re not here to work.”  
“I know I ain’t here to work, Evie, but Beth is a real fine cook. Better than Pearson.”  
“I’m sure anyone could cook better than Pearson,” Mary Beth said as she came down the stairs.  
“Ever since I got here, Beth’s been askin’ me to taste her cooking. She’s cute and a good cook; I ain’t gonna say ‘no’.”

Beth came down the stairs with her arms full of bed linens that needed to be cleaned. Lenny took them from her, much to her surprise, and followed her back into the kitchen. He said he liked her cooking and it was clear that he liked her as a person, but did he think he needed to help around the house? Well, he was probably used to helping out around camp, but it wasn’t a camp. Old habits died hard, that was for certain.

“You know...I’ve never seen the kitchen before...” I mumbled.  
“Oh, it’s a real nice kitchen,” Mary Beth gushed.

I wandered into the kitchen and looked around. She was right; it_ was_ nice. The closest I had ever gotten to a kitchen was Pearson’s table where he butchered game. That was barely a kitchen, of course. The bowls and plates were in lovely wooden cabinets and the cutlery hung on the wall. The icebox let off a pleasant cool air, and there was so much counter space that I didn’t think it all could be used at one time. Unlike the rest of the house, the floor of the kitchen was made of marble. Every other room was floored with wood. How lovely.

“I lived in this house for twenty-four years and I can’t believe I never saw the kitchen until now,” I said as I came out.

There was a knock on the front door and it felt like my blood was going to run cold. I recognized that knock, but to make sure I took a peek outside the window. Just as I expected, it was Father O’Malley. I silently groaned and opened the door; there was no choice, because he would stay there until at least someone opened it themselves.

“Miss Locke,” he said, stepping inside.  
“Father O’Malley, what brings you here?” I asked.

He looked at Sean, a very unimpressed expression on his face. This only made Sean glare back at him intensely.

“What happened here?” Father O’Malley inquired, gesturing to his lip.  
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” I immediately replied.  
“Well, you won’t find any suitors with that on your mouth.”  
“I’m not...looking for suitors...?”  
“Don’t tell me this...ruffian...”  
“Who the hell are ya callin’ a ruffian, eh?” Sean snapped.  
“That answers that question. I hope you’re done being a foolish girl, Tessa. Declan informed me that you were pregnant.”  
“Please leave,” I said loudly.  
“I at least hope to see you at church next--”  
“_Leave_.”

Father O’Malley shook his head in disapproval and finally stepped out of the house. I slammed the door behind him and locked it. How dare he just come into my house and bring up my baby? I should have punched him out myself.

“If one more person comments on my face...” I muttered. “I need to go get ready for tea.”

I was going to tea even if I didn’t want to. I at least was hoping the other ladies were different than I remembered. Joanna, I was sure, was going to want to update me on all the latest gossip that I’d missed. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind, after Joanna had left my house, that I’d been the subject of that gossip at least once. It was a small town; things got around, especially when they weren’t meant to. It was true that I always wanted adventure, but when I still had tea with my friends I loved some good gossip. I was a horrible person, looking down my nose at others, not caring what I said, blissfully ignorant of the people who struggled.

I arrived at Joanna’s house right at two-thirty. I found her in the backyard with one of the other ladies; the others hadn’t arrived just yet. Delilah was the one who was there already. I couldn’t remember why she was rich; I forgot what her father did for a living. Cornelius had been such a successful accountant from a young age and that was why I was rich. Joanna’s father bred prized horses.

“Lovely to see you,” Delilah said as I sat across from her.  
“You, too,” I mumbled.  
“Why are these girls always late?” Joanna said with an annoyed sigh. “Be fashionably late to a party, not afternoon tea.”

It was another fifteen minutes before the others showed up. Apparently, that was even later than usual. Turned out it was because they debated on whether coming or not because of me. What exactly had they heard about me? What had they even gossiped about? Their lack of understanding what I was really doing confounded me.

“Oh, my God, what happened to you?” Agatha gasped, covering her mouth in shock.  
“It’s only a scar,” I replied, stirring sugar into my tea.  
“Girls don’t _have_ scars, darling,” Lily said.  
“Well, I’m a girl, and there’s a scar on my face, so...”  
“No need to get snippy,” Joanna scolded.  
“Where did you get to?” Trinity wondered. “First it was said you left to Canada, then it was somewhere out west... Someone saw you in some dirty town called Strawberry...”  
“I was...around...” I muttered.  
“The biggest rumour was that you were in a gang of outlaws,” Joanna chuckled. “Imagine that? Our darling Tessa -- Sorry, Evangeline -- in a gang with criminals.”

The ladies chuckled along with her. I stared at them with a hardened expression. Lily and Delilah took notice of my face and nervously stopped before looking around at the other girls. Eventually, they stopped and I was able to speak up.

“That part is true,” I said nonchalantly before taking a sip of tea.

Joanna dropped her spoon on her saucer, a shocked expression on her face. If I didn’t know any better, she was going to faint right where she was sitting or simply have a fit. She was judging me harshly, just like I had done when I first got to the Blackwater camp toward so many others. Is this what it felt like? It didn’t feel good; it hurt, and I was ashamed of myself that I was ever like her.

“What else is true, then?” she demanded.  
“Were you truly pregnant and that was why you left?” Delilah asked.  
“I’d like to not talk about that,” I requested.  
“So it _is_ true,” Agatha said. “Interesting.”  
“Joanna, thank you for the tea, but I think I best get going now.”  
“Don’t be silly,” Joanna insisted. “You just got here.”

I could tell by the look on her face that if I did end up leaving, it wouldn’t end well for me. I wanted to live peacefully in my hometown; right then, I decided that I would do whatever I needed to for that to happen. Sipping my tea, I felt as tiny as I did whenever Dutch chose to scream at me.

“Do you have a suitor?” Joanna wondered.  
“I did,” I replied quietly.  
“What do you mean you did?”  
“He left to go help the misplaced Indians--”  
“He chose to help savages?” Lily screeched.  
“They’re his _people_, Lillian.”  
“Your suitor was an Indian?” Trinity asked, raising an eyebrow. “Gangs and savages...”

I sighed, frustrated, but bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything that could cause anything bad to happen. It took me a moment to speak again.

“He’s a good man,” I said. “And the Indians -- they aren’t savages. They’re a peaceful people.”  
“I’m sure they are,” Joanna said, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of tea. “Quite frankly, if a suitor chooses someone above the woman he chose, he’s not a good man. What would happen if he left and that woman was pregnant? Good Lord.”  
♞♞♞

It was about a month after I arrived back home that I started getting ill. I couldn’t stand the smell of Beth’s cooking and I was just so exhausted all the time. I assumed that I was just becoming sick from all the stress finally leaving me, but that wasn’t the case at all. My dresses and my hunting outfit began not being able to fit. I most certainly wasn’t gaining weight from eating, that was for sure. It was just like when I was pregnant the first time. I managed to hide it for a while, just to make sure.

Sure enough, I was getting bigger and my dresses and hunting outfit no longer fit. I had to buy dresses on the sly and I eventually had to stop hunting. Beth insisted just getting meat from the butcher, but Sean, Lenny, and I insisted ourselves to use the freshest game.

Sean found me one day in my room -- Cornelius’ old room -- as I was sitting on the bed, crying.

“Alright?” he asked.  
“No,” I sniffled.  
“Why’re ya cryin’?”  
“I’m _pregnant_, Sean.”

It seemed as if he didn’t know how to react to what I’d said. We slept in the same bed, but we never actually_ slept_ together. There was absolutely no way he could have gotten me pregnant. With the timing, it was either...

“Ain’t that a good thing?” Sean wondered. “You wanna--”  
“It’s either a good thing or it’s a very bad thing,” I sobbed.  
“Why?”  
“Because it’s either Charles’ or it’s _Micah’s_, Sean!”

He sat on the bed next to me and wrapped an arm around me. It was an immediate understanding of why I was so upset. On one hand, if it was Charles’ baby, it wouldn’t know its father. On the other hand, if it was Micah’s, I was bringing something that felt evil into the world.

“I’m not keeping it if it’s Micah’s,” I struggled to say. “No. I refuse to take care of that monster’s child.”  
“It’s okay,” Sean said. “I wouldn’t want ya to, either.”  
“Looking at it every day, knowing who its father is -- it would drive me crazy. I don’t want to give birth to something that came from something so bad.”  
“We just gotta wait and see.”  
“Thank you for staying with me. Even if Arthur made you promise to take care of me, I appreciate it.”  
“I ain’t stayin’ just ’cause he told me to.”

I knew why he was staying. He never let me forget that he still loved me. If I didn’t love him back, I probably wouldn’t have let him sleep next to me at night. I leaned against him with a sigh, before realizing that I needed to vomit for what felt like the twentieth time that day.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into months, and before I knew it I was nearly there to have the baby. Even though I wasn’t sure whose baby it was, Sean and I had taken the liberty in buying a bassinet, baby clothes, nappy’s, and toys. One day we were in the dining room talking. Sean sat at the table and I was putting glasses back into the cabinet.

“Evie, could I get another whiskey?” he wondered.  
“Sure,” I mumbled, turning to the liquor cabinet.

When I turned back around, he was no longer sitting at the table. Instead, he was on his knee in front of me. I nearly dropped the bottle in shock.

“Sean, what do you think you’re doing?” I gasped.  
“Listen; I know I ain’t your first choice,” he said. “Maybe I ain’t even your second choice. But I love ya, Evie. I really do.”  
“Why now? Of all times--”  
“I needed to save money for the ring, don’tcha think?”

Sean reached into one of his pockets and took out a ring with a small diamond situated in the middle. He’d gotten a job and I hadn’t even know about it? Or had he caused some trouble and robbed people for it? Either way, I wasn’t going to question him. It was a romantic gesture all the same, no matter how he attained the money to get me a ring.

“B-But I’ve treated you so horribly a-and this baby isn’t yours,” I stammered.  
“I don’t care,” he told me. “Nothin’ was perfect, but at the end of the day I’ve still got them feelings.”  
“Sean MacGuire, you’re something else.”

Being proposed to was overwhelming. I was happy and sad at the same time. Happy because Sean wasn’t going to leave me to deal with things alone. Sad because my father wasn’t around to see me get married, even if he didn’t particularly like Sean to begin with.

“Yes,” I sniffled, setting the bottle down.  
“What?” Sean asked.  
“I said yes; yes, I’ll marry you.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, really!”

He stood up and hugged me tightly, even going so far as lifting me up slightly off the ground. After, he slipped the ring onto my finger. The moment was short-lived, however, as there was a knock on the front door. That was a knock I didn’t recognize. Sean and I both went to answer the door. Much to my relief, it was a familiar face.

“Hey!” Sadie said.  
“Sadie, what are you doing here?” I asked as she pulled me into a hug.  
“Just thought I’d come see ya. There somethin’ wrong with that?”  
“No, no, not at all.”  
“I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, but-- Whoa, you’re huge! And what’s this? Sean MacGuire, didja snatch this good lady up?”  
“Sure did,” Sean said proudly. “It was a minute ago I proposed.”  
“Well, then, seems I came at the right time, eh?”

I hugged her again. Her visiting was such a nice surprise. I was so excited and happy to see her. I’d not told her that I was pregnant based on the fact I didn’t know whose baby it was. I led her into the dining room and got her a glass of whiskey. Sean left us alone so we could talk.

“Did John and Abigail get out okay with Jack?” I asked.  
“It weren’t okay, but they did get out,” Sadie replied. “We had one last job and, well, John got shot. Dutch said he was gonna get him, make sure he was okay, came up with a story that John was killed.”  
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus...”  
“Turns out, John was just fine. Apart from his shoulder, I mean. But before that, Agent Milton grabbed Abigail to be tried for murder, right? Some bullshit story. Jack was fine; Tilly took care of him. Me and Arthur got Abigail back, and she shot Milton. Milton.” She grunted as she took a sip of whiskey. “Him and that stupid haircut. Arthur helped John get to his family.”  
“Good. Good, I’m glad. Where are they?”  
“Last I saw of ’em, they were headed to the Yukon.”  
“Canada? Well...good for them. Really. And what of Tilly?”  
“She got out thanks to Arthur, too.”  
“And...Miss Grimshaw? She and I didn’t always get along, but...”  
“Micah.”

She didn’t need to say anything else. So Susan was dead because Micah killed her. Somehow I thought that was the case that she was dead; it didn’t matter how she died. I’d just known. And how Dutch was acting, I could only assume that he still sided with Micah even though he had killed the woman who had been at his side for so long. But was it really so far off? He’d betrayed his own sons, he’d gotten Eagle Flies killed, and he simply allowed Micah to do whatever he pleased around camp.

“Javier and Bill sided with Dutch, didn’t they?” I muttered.  
“They did,” Sadie replied. “Goddamn blind loyalty, is what it was. And Bill was a sheep, just like you said.”  
“What about Arthur? You said he helped John and his family. But...what happened to him?”  
“He died.”  
“I wish I’d gotten to know him better. We became friends toward the end, but...it doesn’t feel like it was enough.”  
“What matters is that it’s over. Now, then, how wouldja like to plan your wedding?”  
♞♞♞

“Where’s the priest?” I wondered, biting my finger tips. “You told him ten AM, right?”  
“Sure did,” Sadie replied. “It’s still too soon for him to--”  
“Swanson? Reverend Swanson!”  
“Miss Locke, how are you?” the Reverend asked as I hugged him.  
“I’m doing good. What about you? What are you doing here?”  
“Mrs Adler asked me to officiate your wedding.”

I looked back at Sadie, who waved at me with a cheeky smile on her face. Never did I ever think that Reverend Swanson would oversee my wedding. I was so happy to see him. He definitely looked well. We had time before the wedding to chat; he was the priest at a small church in Illinois. He’d come so far from the person I had met that day in Blackwater. No drinking and no morphine. He got his act together toward the end and he kept it that way. I was sure it was difficult for him to struggle with, but he did it.

“How are you coping?” he asked. “It’s been a while.”  
“I’ve been doing surprisingly well,” I admitted. “Um...but this...I don’t know whose baby it is.”  
“I see.”  
“It’s not because I was sleeping around, Reverend--”  
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, dear.” He pat my shoulder. “I know what happened.”  
“Reverend, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Ooh...”  
“Are you alright?”  
“The baby is kicking. It’ll be coming soon.”

Sadie made sure that everything was perfect -- the decorations, my hair, my dress. I hadn’t seen Sean all day. Not being able to see him due to “bad luck” made me nervous. I hoped he was doing okay. Did he know that the Reverend was officiating our wedding? One thing that I was adamant about was the person to oversee our wedding. I refused to have Father O’Malley do it. He had come around asking me if he could; that was an immediate door slam to his face. I didn’t need him somehow sabotaging Sean and I; even if he didn’t purposely do such a thing, I didn’t want someone like him around everyone. I did wish that John and his family could be there, but they were long gone by now. I especially wished Cornelius was there, most of all.

“He’s here with you in spirit,” the Reverend said when I mentioned my father. “I know you’d want him here in person, of course.”  
“In spirit is better than nothing, I suppose,” I replied.  
“Who will be attending the wedding, if I may ask?”  
“Mary Beth, Kieran, Lenny, the maids, Sadie, you of course... My old friends raised a lot of fuss about not being invited. They’re always bad-mouthing Sean and myself.”  
“Perhaps it’s for the best they aren’t here, then.”  
“I agree. I used to be like them and after everything that I experienced with all of you, I... I can’t stand them. I’ve even stopped going for tea. Nothing they can spread about me will be as horrible as the things we experienced.”

Sadie announced that the wedding would be starting in ten minutes; meaning, everyone who was there had to take their seats. I was still nervous, even after talking to the Reverend. He went to take his place at the archway Sadie had set up at the start of the garden. Since my father wasn’t there to walk me down the makeshift aisle, I had asked Sadie to do it. We stood around the corner as the Reverend gave a small speech. Sadie was doing some last checkups on my dress and my hair before we could go ahead and walk.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this.”


	37. Chapter 37

As I was placing glasses back in the cabinet, I suddenly felt wet around my feet. Looking down, I realized there was water pooled beneath me. I had no idea what was going on, until I felt a sharp pain. I shrieked and dropped a glass, which made Sean come running into the dining room. He stopped and stared at the floor.

“_Jesus Christ_, are ya pissin’ yourself now?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.  
“S-Sean...” I stammered.  
“I ain’t cleanin’ that up.”  
I inhaled sharply. “Christ, I didn’t soil myself, Sean! The baby is coming!”  
“Oh.”  
“Sadie!”

Sadie came down the stairs, most likely not expecting for me to tell her that the baby could come sometime soon. She didn’t understand until she saw the water on the floor.

“Sean, go get the doctor,” she said, grabbing my arm to help me up to my room.  
“No!” I gasped. “No, if the doctor comes, he’ll take the baby away from me. Whether it’s Charles’ or Micah’s, I want to make that choice.”  
“Okay, er... Mary Beth, the baby’s comin’!”

Mary Beth came out of the study. My guess was she hadn’t seen a baby in such a long time because she seemed to be so excited. She was instructed to get towels and hot water. I had no idea what the water was for, but I didn’t bother questioning it. I wasn’t in any pain just yet, aside from that pain that made me drop the glass a few moments ago. It was true that I probably should have had a doctor, but I wasn’t risking the fact that the baby could be taken away if it was Charles’. Should it end up being Micah’s, I would take it to the doctor’s office myself, or even travel to an orphanage.

“Nice and easy,” Sadie murmured as she helped me up the stairs. “Almost there. Seems like I came at the right time, eh?”  
“Yes,” I muttered. “Do you know how to do this?”  
“No; that’s why asked Sean to get the doctor.”  
“Oh, for... Why didn’t you say that?!”  
“I only know how to help horses to foal, Evie.”  
“How different could a human be, Sadie?!”  
“Alright, alright...”

She got me into my room and told me to walk in circles until it was evident that the baby was going to come out. My back was hurting so much; how could I continue to walk? Still, I did what I had to do, albeit slowly. How did I ever think I could have coped with this in the wilderness? If that would have happened, my screaming would probably attract either people or predatory animals. Neither would be good. At least in my own house, I could scream as much as I needed to. Of course, if someone was that worried, they were free to set the police on my house -- it only was comprised of the sheriff and his deputy, since there was next to no crime in my town.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sean asked, poking his head into the room.  
“You can stay,” I said, and then screamed when another sharp pain ran through my body.  
“You’re gonna have to hold her hand,” Sadie told him.

Sean sat at my father’s reading desk and waited. Mary Beth came in with the hot water and the towels; now she didn’t know what to do next. Lenny and Kieran were out hunting and the maids were at the market. I could only hope that they didn’t walk into the house in the middle of my screaming. That would be so incredibly alarming, that was for sure.

“I know it might be a bit uncomfortable, but you’re gonna have to take your underthings off,” Sadie mentioned.  
“What?” I panted.  
“Just them bloomers, darlin’. How else is the baby gonna come out?”

I rolled my eyes and slowly waddled over to my privacy screen. Even more slowly I took my bloomers off and shoved them into the hamper I had. The pain was becoming stronger and stronger by the moment.

“If you change your mind about Sean bein’ here...” Sadie said, her voice trailing off.  
“He’s not the one who’s going to be looking at it,” I shot back.  
“Okay. Well...let me feel around to see if you’re almost ready...”

I didn’t feel much of anything as she reached under my dress. That had to mean something, right? I was doing my best not to scream anymore, but some exclamations of pain came out. I knew childbirth would be painful, but not _this_ painful.

“Okay, it’s comin’,” she said, leading me over to the bed. “Mary Beth, Sean, hold her hands. Make sure your knees are up, Evie. C’mon, now.”

Sadie grabbed the chair from the reading desk as Sean stood up, setting it at the end of the bed just so she could see easier. She dunked her hands in the hot water and watched carefully.

“I’m gonna need ya to start pushin’,” she told me.

I didn’t hold onto Mary Beth’s hand or Sean’s hand until I began pushing. I hadn’t thought it would be that bad once it started; it was more than bad, though. It hurt tremendously. Of all the times I had been in pain, I couldn’t even think of what had been the worst. All I could focus on was the pain I was enduring right in that moment. My screaming turned to crying. Why had I thought it would be over so quickly? I was squeezing Mary Beth’s hand and Sean’s hand so tightly I could swear I was going to break their bones.

“Push as hard as you can, Evie,” Sadie instructed. “You’re almost there.”  
“You’re doin’ great,” Mary Beth assured me.

I was “almost there” in Sadie’s eyes, it seemed. It felt like the pain would never end. I was becoming so tired that I didn’t think I’d be able to push anymore. Mary Beth went and wet a cloth to dab my forehead with to get rid of the collecting sweat. Every inch of my body was hurting.

“I ca-- I can’t anymore,” I panted.  
“Yes, you can!” Sadie scolded. “I swear, just a couple more pushes and you’ll be done.”  
“Look at me, darlin’,” Sean said. “You’re doin’ good. Ain’t no stoppin’ now, so just keep goin’.”

I swallowed hard and did my best to continue pushing. Finally, with a very loud scream and a very strong push, I was done. I fell back onto the bed, exhausted. Mary Beth and Sadie washed the baby up while it cried.

“Don’t you worry ’bout anything,” Sadie murmured as she wandered over to me.

Sean let my hand go and waved his hand around a bit. I must have hurt him pretty bad to do that.

“It’s Charles’, see?” Sadie continued as she handed the baby to me.

I started crying again out of relief. After all that, if it had been Micah’s I didn’t know what I would have done. Surely Sadie wouldn’t have even bothered handing it to me. Mary Beth helped me sit up properly so I could get a good look at it. It looked up at me with wide eyes, like it was in wonder of a bigger human than it was.

“The baby is a boy,” Sadie said.

I’d never spent too much time around babies. In fact, the closest thing to a baby I’d been around for a long time was Jack. I had seen babies from afar and heard babies crying, but not ever did I ever hold one or get close to someone who had one.

“He’s so cute,” Mary Beth mused. “What’re you gonna name him?”  
“Charlie Cornelius Locke,” I replied.  
“That’s a robust name,” Sean mentioned in a teasing voice.  
“Oh, stop that.”  
♞♞♞

_ Seven years later_

“Oh, my, you’re getting so big,” I gushed. “Look, you grew half an inch.”  
“Really?!” Charlie said excitedly, looking at the pencil mark on the door frame.  
“Yep. Soon you’ll be taller than me.”

Where did the time even go? It seemed like just yesterday that I was screaming and crying, and now my boy was seven-years-old and growing so big. I taught him from home; Sean and I had tried putting him in the schoolhouse, but that didn’t last long. He came home often beaten up, or with ripped clothing, or his lunch had been stolen from him. The only reason they had allowed him into the schoolhouse in the first place was because I was a rich white woman. Initially, everyone had thought Sean and I had been kind enough to adopt a misplaced black and Indian boy. I didn’t know how many times I had to explain that he was mine, but that he clearly had a different father.

“Mama, I hear Siobhán!” Charlie exclaimed, running out of the room.

It only took Sean and I a year to have our own child together. This one had been a girl; for her first name, we settled on a clear Irish name, and we decided her middle name was Sadie. Sadie always came back every few months and coincidentally had been around when Siobhán was born. She helped deliver this baby, too. Siobhán wasn’t a baby anymore, but she was still young enough to require naps. She and her brother were six years apart. I followed Charlie to Siobhán’s room, where she was sitting up in her bed, babbling to herself.

“Hello, my beautiful girl,” I cooed, picking her up. “You’re getting so big, too. Yes, you are.”

She giggled at my baby talk and hugged me.

“Where’s Dad?” Charlie asked.  
“He’s hunting,” I replied. “He should be back soon.”  
“When is he gonna teach me how to hunt?”  
“Oh, not for a while now. Maybe in a few years.”

Charlie called Sean “Dad”. It took him a long time to be able to start even saying “papa” when he was a baby. He never took to Sean that easily, even if they went out on horse rides together or spent time fishing. Sean had promised he would take care of Charlie like he was his own. But Charlie was getting to an age where I was sure he was able to tell the difference. I was also sure the children at the schoolhouse had said something about his parentage, too.

I wanted to raise Charlie and Siobhán humbly. We were still rich, but our money was hardly ever mentioned in front of the children. Lenny and Beth decided to leave together, and after that the rest of the maids had decided to leave, too. I encouraged all of them to do so. I didn’t want my children to struggle, but I also didn’t want someone doing everything for them, or for Sean and I. Mary Beth and Kieran also left a few months after Charlie was born. Everyone had gotten back on their feet well enough. Mary Beth decided she wanted to write stories; Kieran supported her in that. There was no reason to hold her back.

With no one to cook in the house, it was either Sean or myself to do so. Cooking obviously didn’t come naturally to me. From the times he had to camp, Sean knew how to cook, even though his vegetables could use some work. Still, all his food was more palatable than mine. We had thyme, rosemary, and ginger growing in our garden to make everything taste even better. It couldn’t save the food I made, though.

I carried Siobhán downstairs while Charlie followed behind me. In the dining room, I set them both down at the table and headed into the kitchen to get them some food. Sean had cooked before he headed out hunting and taken the liberty of making sure Siobhán’s food was small enough that she could properly eat.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” she gurgled as I sat between the two of them.  
“Are you ready for lunch?” I asked her. “Yes, I think you are.”  
“When’s Auntie Sadie coming back?” Charlie wondered.  
“Hm... I’m not sure. She comes and goes as she pleases.”  
“I hope it’s soon. I wanna show her how big I got.”

Sean came into the house, carrying a deer over his shoulder. He looked worried about something, but what could he possibly have to worry about? He didn’t look sick and he certainly didn’t sound sick when he had left to go hunting.

“Hi,” he huffed, walking toward the kitchen.  
“Hey, is everything okay?” I wondered.  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”  
“Sean...”

He leaned down and kissed me before continuing on into the kitchen. Well, now I definitely knew something was wrong. I decided to leave it for the moment and return to feeding Siobhán. Charlie continued to eat on his own next to me. That boy certainly loved food. I saw definite features of Charles in him; he had his father’s eyes, obviously had his skin tone, and he had times where he would only say a few words at a time. It was more rare to have a full conversation with him than not, but when it happened I was the only person he had them with. As much as Sean tried to get him to talk, there was either only silence or barely any words.

“Mama, can I ask you something?” Charlie mumbled.  
“Of course you can, my handsome boy,” I replied.  
“Is Dad...really my dad?”

I sighed and looked at him.

“It’s just that...I’m black...and you, Dad, and Siobhán are all white,” he continued. “Is he really my dad? Are you really my mom?”

He was thinking he was adopted? I told him to wait a moment and headed into the kitchen myself. Sean hadn’t yet began skinning the dear, therefore he wasn’t covered in blood and I could ask him to feed Siobhán while I spoke with Charlie. We both knew that the time would come when he would start asking questions, and I supposed that time was now. Sean followed me out of the kitchen and sat down with Siobhán.

“Come with me, Charlie,” I requested.

Charlie took my hand and I took him upstairs. I led him into mine and Sean’s bedroom, set him on the bed, and went over to my wardrobe. Swallowing hard, I picked up the frame that held the photo of Charles and I during that day in Saint Denis. After a moment, I walked back over to the bed and sat down next to my boy.

“What’s that?” he asked.  
“This is a photo of your father and I,” I admitted, showing the frame to him. “You look so much like him.”  
“Why isn’t he here with us?”  
“Well...a long time ago, before you were born, we were in some trouble because of some very bad people. Your father was a good man and decided, instead of staying with me, to help the Indians we had become acquainted with. He cared about so many people.”  
“He helped Indians?”  
“Yes. He tried to keep the chief’s son out of trouble, but...someone bad got involved, and he wasn’t able to help. He wanted to help his people since he felt it was his duty.”  
“What do you mean ‘his people’?”  
“He was half black, half Indian.”  
“So I’m Indian, too?”  
“Yes.”

Charlie nodded, understanding. He continued to look at the photo with me. I kept the photo in my wardrobe, so that every time I got dressed in the morning and got changed into my nightgown at night I could say “good morning” and “goodnight” to him.

“I miss him everyday,” I sighed. “If he knew I was pregnant with you, I believe he would have taken me along with him or stayed with me. I keep him in this locket around my neck, too.” Pulling the locket out from underneath my dress, I opened it and showed him the photo. “It’s so he’s always close to my heart.”  
“Do you know where he is?” Charlie said quietly.  
“No, sweetie. I’m afraid I don’t.”

It wasn’t long until Sean came upstairs, carrying Siobhán. He knocked on the bedroom door before stepping in.

“Siobhán’s done,” he told me. “I need to talk to ya, Evie.”  
“Why don’t you go back downstairs and finish your food?” I suggested to Charlie. “I’ll be there soon.”

He left and Sean handed Siobhán to me. We needed to talk? If nothing was wrong, why would we need to talk?

“I was out hunting and there was bounty hunters,” Sean explained.  
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Why does that concern you? You’ve been keeping out of trouble, haven’t you?”

He didn’t answer me.

“Haven’t you?!” I snapped.  
“I killed a man but it wasn’t me fault, I swear,” he replied. “It was an accident.”  
“Sean, how do you ‘accidentally’ kill someone? What did you do?”  
“It was rainin’ one day and I wanted to get back quickly and I couldn’t see nothin. Ended up hittin’ another horse with someone on it. Turns out it was a real important person.”  
“Oh, Sean, why didn’t you tell me?”  
“We’d have to leave here. I ain’t gonna drag you and Siobhán and Charlie around ’cause I did somethin’--”  
“What are you saying? That you need to leave us?”  
“Yeah...”

I cuddled Siobhán to my chest, holding in tears.

“What’s your bounty cost?” I asked. “I-I can pay it and everything will be okay.”  
“It ain’t a bounty to be paid, darlin’,” Sean said.  
“Your bounty is dead or alive? So then what are you going to do? Are you gonna go back to Ireland? Another state? What?”  
“I’m gonna try Canada.”  
“Moving to Canada and settling down there sounds fine to me.”  
“I’m goin’ so I can wander again. Why do ya think I’m always outta town? I don’t like bein’ in one place for too long.”  
“We have a baby, Sean. I-I’ve got Charlie, too. If it was just us--”  
“If it was just us, then I’d ask for you to come with me. But I ain’t gonna do that.”  
“We’ve no photos of you. How will Siobhán ever know who you are or what you look like? I just showed Charlie the photo of Charles.”  
“Let’s get one taken together before I go, yeah? I’ll leave tomorrow.”  
“Christ, Sean... This is...”

I wasn’t going to have any help whatsoever with the children. Charlie could help with Siobhán, but who would help me with him? I looked down at her; she was smiling up at me. I didn’t know what to say anymore. This all felt too familiar, with him wanting to leave me just so I, with the addition of the kids, could be safe. What were we going to do? What was I going to do? Never in all my life did I think I would become a mother with her children by herself. I was scared of being alone. I hadn’t been really alone in such a long time. It was different when Sean left to go hunting; I always knew he would be back in a few hours. But this time, I was truly going to be by myself. He wasn’t just going hunting; he was leaving me. Even if he was, he was still keeping his promise to Arthur about keeping me safe. He didn’t want me to get mixed up with bounty hunters and I didn’t think he wanted Siobhán or Charlie to bear witness to their father and father-figure being taken away. My daughter probably would never remember such an experience, but my boy definitely would.

“I’ll have to leave Arkansas if you go,” I said. “Be somewhere closer to Sadie or Mary Beth or--”  
“It ain’t like you have to decide now,” Sean told me. “Let’s go over to get our photo taken.”  
♞♞♞

Sadie stopped by a few weeks later. She must have heard me screaming from outside the house, because she didn’t even bother knocking. She ran through the kitchen door, only to see me trying to get rid of the fire I had started on the stove. Charlie was in the dining room with Siobhán, luckily safe from what I’d done. Sadie put the fire out immediately. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked at me.

“What the hell happened here, huh?” she asked. “I thought Sean did all the cookin’.”  
“He did most of it,” I sniffled, wiping my hands on my apron. “Bounty hunters were after him so he went to Canada without us.”  
“Jesus. How long have you been here by yourself?”  
“Almost a month. Things are going terribly. I-I can’t keep up with the house chores and keep track of when the kids are eating and I’m trying to still teach Charlie from home and--”  
“Whoa, take a breath, girl. Let’s go have a seat.”  
“Let me make some tea.”

I prepared cups of tea for us, and then we headed out into the dining room. Charlie was reading a book and Siobhán was sitting in her highchair, just looking at the pretty pictures in her own book. They were preoccupied and I didn’t want to disturb them, so I led Sadie into the parlour. We each sat in one of the chairs and she immediately got to the chase.

“I’m usually in Blackwater,” she said. “Why don’t ya come live up there? I could help with the kids.”  
“Blackwater?” I asked nervously, taking a sip of my tea.  
“Ain’t nothin’ weird goin’ on down there no more except for some weird gang.” Sadie took a sip of hers with a sigh. “It’s a changed town, really.”  
“I don’t know, Sadie; the last time I was there...”  
“It’ll be hard at first; I know that. Micah ain’t nowhere near there.”  
“What about the others?”  
“What others, Evie?”  
“Dutch, Javier, Bill.”  
“Dunno where they are. Ain’t heard nothin’ about ’em in years. But John is back up there, too, at Beecher’s Hope. He’s fixin’ to bring Abigail and Jack there, too. So you’d be able to see ’em.”

I took a long drink of my tea. Go back to Blackwater? I’d be able to find where my baby was buried and place flowers on its grave. Maybe it was just what Sadie said; that the town was changed. Eight years was a long time. I set the teacup down on the table next to my chair. I did miss John and his family.

“I thought they went to the Yukon,” I said.  
“Yeah, well, they came back,” Sadie replied. “Trust me. You’re gonna wanna go to Beecher’s Hope. You can pack up what y’all need and we can get there by this evenin’. It’s still early in the day.”

I looked at her. I did want to be closer to her in order for her to help and to see her more often, and I knew how much she loved my kids. But...Blackwater? Maybe if I stayed in the town and only ever went to see John at his place I would be okay. It took me a moment, but I ended up nodding.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go get ya packed up.”

Charlie didn’t question why we were leaving home with Sadie. He sat in the back, holding Siobhán as we left with Sadie in the wagon. Her new horse and Maple followed behind us. It was difficult leaving home again, but this time I definitely knew it was for the better. I’d written to Mary Beth and Kieran that they could have the house so long as they took good care of it, and to write me in Blackwater should they need anything. As we rode by farms and wildlife, Charlie showed Siobhán the animals. I could hear her clapping excitedly every time we past a group of horses.

“Whoa, what are those?” Charlie exclaimed.  
I looked at what he was talking about. “Those are bison.”  
“They’re beautiful, Mama.”

We arrived in Blackwater just as the sun was setting. The town definitely did look different than the last time I had been there. I almost didn’t recognize it.

“Get yourselves a room,” Sadie told me as I got off the wagon. “I’ll take this over to the stables.”  
“Thank you,” I huffed as I pulled our luggage out.  
“I’ll come up and see ya when I’m done. Don’t worry ’bout the pram and the bassinet; I’ll bring ’em up when I come.”

I reached my hands out for Charlie to give me Siobhán. Once I had her in my arms, he tried hopping out of the wagon. He caught his lace on a broken piece of wood and ended up falling to the ground from such a height.

“Oh, my baby, are you alright?” I gasped, helping him to his feet.  
“I’m okay, Mama,” he replied. “It didn’t hurt.”  
“Everythin’ okay back there?” Sadie said, turning around.  
“Charlie fell,” I huffed. “He said he’s fine, though. Let’s get you to bed.”

Charlie helped me with carrying the luggage into the saloon. Ordinarily, children weren’t allowed inside such a place, but there wasn’t an actual hotel in the town. I cleared my throat to catch the bartender’s attention.

“We don’t babysit,” he scolded.  
“I’m not here to ask for you to watch my children,” I said, stern. “We would like a room, please.”  
“You’re lucky you’re pretty, lady.”

I rolled my eyes and signed the ledger before being allowed to go up to the room. It was a decent room, to say the least. Charlie dropped the luggage on the floor and hopped up onto the bed. I turned up the lantern slightly. Siobhán looked around, quite confused. She was too young to understand that scenery changed. The unfamiliarity caused her to start crying.

“No, hey, it’s okay,” I cooed. “Don’t worry.”

I bounced her up and down gently while singing a lullaby to her. I understood her stress. Everything had changed so quickly for her. It was a confusing and trying time and I was sure she missed Sean. Charlie seemed to be coping just fine without Sean around, though. Siobhán was finally able to calm down and not too soon after did Sadie come up, struggling to drag the pram behind her and balance the bassinet in her one arm. She was managing, though, and denied my help when I asked if she needed any.

“Get those children to bed,” she said. “And you get some rest, too, ’cause you’re going to Beecher’s Hope in the morning.”  
“But...John doesn’t even know I’m coming, does he?” I replied quietly.  
“Then he can be surprised! Trust me, you do wanna go. Now get to bed. My room’s the next one over. G’night.”  
“Goodnight, Auntie Sadie!” Charlie called.  
“Charlie, baby, do you think she’s acting a bit...odd?” I wondered  
“No, Mama.”  
“Well...maybe it’s just me, then.”


	38. Chapter 38

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Charlie told me as I finished buttoning up Siobhán’s dress.  
“Just give me a moment, okay?” I replied. “We’ll get food after I’m done with your sister.”

Sadie knocked on the door and then stepped in.

“Why aren’t ya gone yet?” she asked.  
“Siobhán didn’t sleep well last night,” I admitted. “Understandable, don’t you think, though? She’s not old enough to understand what’s going on. Hey, could you do me a favour?”  
“Sure.”  
“Could you go downstairs with Charlie and get him something to eat?”

Sadie shrugged and waved at Charlie to follow her. Siobhán had that expression on her face that just screamed that she was going to start crying again. I almost didn’t want to go see John. She was tired, I was at the end of my rope, and Charlie was... Well, he was doing fine, other than his being hungry. I needed to calm Siobhán down before I took her downstairs; I didn’t want her to disturb any of the patrons, because then the barkeep would yell at me and in turn scare her even more and upset Charlie.

“Who’s my beautiful girl?” I asked, placing her down on the bed and pretending to eat her feet. “Is it you?”

She began giggling and waving her arms around. It didn’t take much to calm her down, thankfully, and I strapped her shoes on. I grabbed my money purse, attached it to the inside of my coat, and we headed downstairs. Charlie was already halfway done with his porridge. It was a different barkeep; hopefully he wouldn’t snap at me about anything.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said.  
“What can I do ya for?” he replied.  
“You wouldn’t happen to have milk here, would you? For my little girl, I mean.”  
“No, ma’am. Sorry.”  
“Don’t worry. Charlie, are you almost ready?”

Charlie looked at me with a mouthful of porridge and nodded. How hungry was he? That was when it hit me, though -- I hadn’t fed him at all the day before after we left Arkansas. I held Siobhán closer to my chest and looked at Sadie. I’d fed Siobhán on and off all night -- she got her food, but Charlie hadn’t had any until now.

“Okay, Evie?” she asked.  
“I didn’t... I...” My voice came out as a stammer. “Yesterday...”  
“Yeah. Yeah, he told me. He didn’t say nothin’ ’cause he knows you ain’t doin’ so good. Here are the directions to Beecher’s Hope.”

I took the map from Sadie and looked at it. There was a red line that led from Blackwater all the way to John’s ranch. It wasn’t too far from town, but far enough that it was secluded. I folded the map up and put it into my pocket. Charlie finished up his porridge and thanked the barkeep, before jumping from the stool.

“I gotta head out for a bounty,” Sadie mentioned as we walked outside. “Some guy tryin’ to give the Blackwater sheriff the slip.”  
“Mama?” Charlie asked, pulling on the skirt of my dress. “Why’s there that poster of Siobhán’s dad?”

For a moment, I was confused, but he pointed at what he was talking about. I stormed over to the poster and took it off the wall. Sean didn’t need a poster all the way in Blackwater if what he had done had been in Arkansas. Well, he did if he had done something so much worse than what he’d told me. He’d been right in telling me that the bounty was dead or alive. I glanced at Sadie, who had a guilty expression on her face.

“Did you know about this?” I demanded.  
“I... Yeah... I did...” she said quietly.  
“He didn’t accidentally run into someone important, did he?”  
“This ain’t a conversation to have in front of your kids, don’t ya think?”  
“_Sadie_.”  
“I promise as soon as I get back, we’ll talk about it, okay?”

We went our separate ways. I retrieved my wagon from the stables and helped Charlie up onto the seat before handing him Siobhán. He was able to look at the map, hold his sister, and direct me all at once. I didn’t recognize any of the land. Granted, the only time I had been in Blackwater was during the winter and that short moment Sean and I had gone back all those years ago to get my travel trunk of jewellery. But I essentially had no idea where we were. Teaching Charlie to read maps was coming in handy, that was for sure. All the while, Siobhán looked at the scenery and became excited whenever she saw the wild animals running by.

“Mama, are you okay?” Charlie asked.  
“I don’t recognize where we’re going,” I replied honestly. “Don’t worry, though. Keep directing.”  
“Um...you have to turn right up here.”  
“How are you doing? I’m sorry about yesterday.”  
“I’m fine, Mama. Oh! It should be up here on the right!”

I pulled on the reins and stood up on the seat. Well, the sign said it was Beecher’s Hope, but there wasn’t much of a ranch. There wasn’t much of anything, really. I sighed as I sat back down.

“We’re gonna meet a new person, alright?” I said. “He isn’t new to me, but he will be to you.”  
“Is he a good person?” Charlie mumbled.  
I flicked the reins. “He’s a better person than a few I used to know.”  
“How many people did you used to know, Mama?”  
“Let’s just say I wish I never met some of them.”  
“Didn’t Auntie Sadie say this was a farm or something?”  
“She did.”

There was so much land, so much...nothing. A few horses were grazing, but that was about it. Siobhán looked around curiously as we approached a tiny shack and a burnt out fire. If Sadie sent me to Beecher’s Hope to waste my time, I wasn’t sure what I would do. Glare at her or be vocally livid. Someone had to be around; the fire couldn’t have been out for more than a few hours. I could see a pair of boots from inside the shack and they were clearly on _someone’s_ feet. If John was still sleeping, it would have been better to take the kids out and drive around for a while and then come back.

“Well, if it ain’t Evangeline!”

I looked behind the wagon only to see Uncle sidling up to it. Sighing with relief, I hopped down and ran to hug him. How was this man still even alive? He didn’t look much different from the last time I had seen him. I was surprised he wasn’t the one sleeping in the shack. What business did he have being up before anyone else?

“How are you?” I asked excitedly. “It’s been so long; i-if I’d known you were alright, I would have sent you a letter or invited you down to Arkansas.”  
“Oh, you know. I got terminal lumbago, is all,” he said.  
“Right. The...lumbago. Is that John sleeping in there? I can just come back later.”  
“Don’t be silly, now.” He walked over to the shack. “John, wake up, ya lazy bones!”

If my memory served correctly, Uncle was the lazy bones. I didn’t think he did any work when the gang was still together. Well, there was that time when he led Arthur, Bill, and Charles into essentially an ambush. Then of course there was that bank job in Rhodes that he went with Arthur and Charles on. For the most part, he _was_ the lazy one, not John.

“What do ya want?” John snapped.  
“Evangeline’s here to see ya,” Uncle told him.

It wasn’t but a few seconds until John came out of the shack.

“Evie Locke, as I live and breathe,” he said as he hugged me.  
“Let’s keep it that way,” I teased, squeezing him back.  
“Now how ’bout you tell us about those young’uns in the wagon?” Uncle demanded.

I went back over to the wagon and took Siobhán from Charlie before grabbing his hand and helping him down. Charlie walked behind me as I wandered back over to John and Uncle. He was a kind boy, just extra cautious of older white people thanks to his experiences in the schoolhouse back in Arkansas. I couldn’t blame him one bit; I knew trauma all too well and how it could affect someone. He was fine with Sadie, Sean, and Kieran and Mary Beth, and of course me, because he grew up around us. He was good with Siobhán because she was a baby and the most she could hurt him was pulling on his hair.

“Well, well, look at you,” John sighed. “Evie Locke, you’re a mother.”  
“This Sean’s?” Uncle wondered.  
“She is,” I replied.  
“Ain’t you a cutie?”

Uncle gently pinched Siobhán’s cheeks, causing her to giggle.

“Er, Uncle said ‘young’uns’?” John mentioned.  
“I’m right here,” I said gently. “Nothing is going to harm you while I’m here.”

Charlie came out from behind me. The expressions on John and Uncle’s faces were so evident I almost thought I had done something wrong. Even if I knew they wouldn’t hurt him, Charlie didn’t know that. He returned to hiding behind the skirt of my dress.

“If that ain’t somethin’,” John mumbled, looking at Uncle.  
“Mama, can we go?” Charlie whimpered.  
“Oh, are we scarin’ him? Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to. We just weren’t expectin’ you, that’s all.”

It was a good moment before Charlie came out from behind me again. By now, John was crouching to the ground with his hand out. Nervously, Charlie took his hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet ya, Charlie,” John told him. “I’m John Marston and this here’s Uncle.”  
“Hey, there,” Uncle said, shaking Charlie’s hand next.  
“So, Evie, what brings ya down here?”  
“Sadie,” I admitted. “She was, uh...pretty insistent about it. Sean left us and she figured it’d be better if I came down to Blackwater so I’d be closer to her.”  
“What? He just left you?”  
“It’s...kind of complicated...”  
“Well, now that you’re here, come sit down and get some coffee in ya.”

Charlie, with John’s permission, went off to read beneath the tree that sat on the hill. Uncle held Siobhán and bounced her around in his lap to keep her occupied. The campfire got started and John started on the coffee. Sitting around a fire, drinking out of a tin cup, certainly brought back memories and feelings I’d long since forgotten about. At least I was remembering the good ones.

“Your place is...erm...quaint...” I mumbled as John handed me some coffee.  
“It ain’t ready yet,” he replied as he sat back down.  
“I should hope it’s not. It’s still good you have your own land, though.”  
“So...about Charlie...”  
“He’s seven.”  
“Does Charles know?”

Uncle smacked him in the shoulder.

“No.” I inhaled sharply. “But Charlie knows that Charles is his father. He was smart enough to find out on his own. It was going to happen eventually, since...you know...Sean and I are white, and so is Siobhán. Besides, how could I tell Charles about him when I don’t even know where he is? I wanted to tell him, I still do, but after what happened, it seems most of us lost touch.”  
“You hear anythin’ about Dutch?” John wondered.  
“No, but I hope him and that rat are fucking dead. Oh!” I covered my mouth and looked at Siobhán. “Sorry, sweetie.”  
She looked at me. “Bleh.”

Immediately she returned her attention to Uncle.

“Don’t think she can understand that word,” John said.  
“I-I’m trying to be a good mother, you know?” I breathed. “Whether she can understand it or not, I don’t want her to repeat what I say.”  
“You was always a smart woman,” Uncle chuckled.  
“I think considering how I got to be in the gang that statement is horribly debatable.”  
“Did you know?” John nervously asked. “If Charlie was gonna be--”  
“I didn’t know. I spent most of my time pregnant worried that he was going to come out white. When I found out I was even pregnant, I promised myself if it was that _rat’s_ baby, I wasn’t keeping it. Let me tell you, when Charlie was born, it felt like a weight was lifted.”

For so long, Charlie was my everything. I never took my eyes off of him, not even when we needed to go to the general store or for a simple walk around town. There were people cruel enough to hurt a little boy who looked like him. I never took my hands off his pram when he was a baby and I never put him down when he began walking. Even now that he was getting to be a big boy, I made sure to know where he was at all times. I knew if something bad happened, he would scream for me to help. If the ranch wasn’t safe, I was sure John wouldn’t have let him run off the way he had.

When Siobhán came along, she became my everything, too. But both of them together were my whole world. When I’d been pregnant with her, Father O’Malley had threatened to take her away once she was born. Of course he didn’t know if she was going to be a girl -- he merely referred to her as “that child”. He quickly retracted his statement when Sean pulled a gun on him. Even if that had happened, when Siobhán was born, I refused to leave the house out of fright that Father O’Malley would still try to take her. It took so long for me to be able to even step out onto the porch. If something bad happened to either of my kids, well...hell hath no fury like an angry mother. I would have burned down the church with Father O’Malley inside it if Sean didn’t get to it first. How badly I wanted to burn the schoolhouse down with the adults who allowed and participated in the horrible treatment of Charlie.

“I think considerin’ who your mother was, you’re doin’ a better job already,” John assured me.  
“Thanks,” I mumbled.  
“So you remember how you was always sayin’ you’d be a terrible wife?”  
“I wasn’t a very good wife. Sure, I had the kids, but I didn’t cook. In fact, when Sadie asked me to come to Blackwater, she had just finished putting the fire I started in the kitchen out. Sean did most of the cooking when the maids left. I just took care of my babies and cleaned the house. Sadie helped a lot whenever she came to visit; she helped deliver both Charlie and Siobhán, too.”  
“Busy woman.”  
“Going back to Arkansas after a long time was really... Well, it-it... I tried getting comfortable with my old life again, but I noticed small things, you know? My friends turned out to be completely awful, having maids was uncomfortable, and sleeping in a proper bed took so much getting use to.”  
“Didn’t you sleep at hotels when you were in the gang?”  
“Sometimes, and those beds weren’t comfortable. After months of bedrolls and cots and uncomfortable hotel beds, a comfortable bed wasn’t all that comfortable. And the small talk in town and the quiet nights -- I thought I was going to go insane in that house. Then, as it goes, I was scared that Dutch or Micah were gonna show up. That lasted for a good couple of years. Sadie told me what he did to you, John, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.”  
“Yeah, all that that happened, it weren’t good. Good ya left when Arthur told ya to. Er, you heard about--”  
“I heard about him and Miss Grimshaw.”

Off in the distance, Charlie was shouting something. I got up to see what was going on, and he was running down the hill back toward us. I couldn’t hear what he was saying until he was almost to me.

“Someone’s coming!” he shouted, throwing his arms around my waist.

I staggered slightly and placed my hands on top of his head. He sounded concerned. I didn’t quite blame him. John and Uncle hadn’t mentioned anything about anyone coming to the ranch. Though, I wouldn’t have put it past them to simply forget with the arrival of myself and my children. I looked over at them; they didn’t seem too troubled. Even so, I told Charlie to get behind me. I looked back and down at him; he was so nervous to meet someone else so quickly. The more I looked at him, the more I felt bad. I took him behind the shack.

“You just wait here a second,” I murmured.

Charlie nodded and I wandered back to the front of the shack. By now, whoever he had seen riding into Beecher’s Hope had already made it in. I rounded the corner just as they were asking where Siobhán had come from.

“Charles?” I gasped.  
“Evie? What are you--”

Before he could even finish his sentence, I ran up to him and threw my arms around him. The looks on John and Uncle’s faces when they had seen Charlie made so much more sense and why they had asked if Charles knew about him. I then realized why Sadie had been so insistent about bringing me back to Blackwater and going to visit John at Beecher’s Hope. Her insistence had paid off and now I was glad she had been so pushy about it. Charles being with John and Uncle was the reason she’d been acting so strangely, too.

Charles took no time in hugging me back, and that only just made me hug him tighter. There were many times I thought about what I would do if I saw him again. Slap him, yell at him, punch him... But I could never bring him harm. What he did for Rains Fall and the rest of his people had been kind and honourable, and there was no way I could have expected for him to choose me over his people. That would have been selfish of me to want. If there had been anything I could have wanted, it would have been a proper “goodbye”. The last thing he had ever told me, to my face, was that he loved me. I always wondered if he let me go with everyone to help Eagle Flies if I somehow would have been able to go with him and help with the Indians.

Even if I was sad and confused as to why he left me, I couldn’t be angry at him. The feelings I had for him never left me, even when I was with Sean. That wasn’t fair to Sean in the slightest and he knew I still loved Charles; but I just couldn’t get rid of those feelings. There was no burying those kinds of feelings. I’d been happy on our wedding day, but it had apparently been obvious to Sadie that I wasn’t as happy as I should have been. It was no secret to those in the gang that the person I wanted to have a future with was Charles, and there I was swearing myself to another man I loved -- just not as much as I loved Charles. There had even been some fright from me as to how much I would love Siobhán -- was I going to love her less than I loved Charlie? Would I somehow neglect her? Would I resent her? My being pregnant with Siobhán was just as scary as my being pregnant with Charlie had been.

“Mama,” Siobhán gurgled. “Mama, Mama.”  
“Sorry,” I sniffled, pulling away from Charles and then picking her up from Uncle’s lap. “Um... This... This is Siobhán.”  
“That’s a mouthful,” Charles mentioned.  
“Well...you know I wanted to call a girl Alice, but Sean and I wanted to pay an ode to Ireland. I think her name suits her well. I...er...”  
“Sean know you’re down here?”  
I sighed. “No. He left for Canada because I think he did something stupid. Told me one thing, but I think it’s for a whole other thing now. Charles, I... I need to...”  
“You might wanna sit down,” Uncle suggested.  
“I didn’t...come down here expecting to see you...but now... Could you please have a seat? It’s-It’s nothing bad, I promise. At least...it shouldn't be...”

Charles did as I asked of him, albeit cautiously. John wasn’t saying anything and Uncle didn’t say another word, even when I handed Siobhán back to him. I went back behind the shack. Charlie was rocking back and forth on his feet.

“It’s time to meet someone else,” I said.  
“The person isn’t gonna hurt us?” he asked.  
“No.” I kissed his forehead. “You’ll recognize him when you see him.”

He held onto the skirt of my dress as I led him back out from behind the shack. I really didn’t know who was more nervous -- Charlie or myself. We’d not seen each other in eight years and now I was suddenly about to drop a ball on Charles. I couldn’t anticipate his reaction; all I could hope was that it was a good reaction and not a bad one. There was no way he would hurt my boy.

“Erm...” I mumbled. “This... This is Charlie...”

I felt Charlie move behind me to only poke his head out from behind me. Charles shifted his eyes as he did so. There wasn’t much of an emotional reaction from him, which is something I _should_ have anticipated.

“He’s in your locket!” Charlie exclaimed excitedly. “Hey, wait.”  
“Bet ya didn’t think you’d be wakin’ up this mornin’ to find out you’re a father,” Uncle teased.  
“Right,” Charles replied.  
“Hey, honey, why don’t you go read some more?” I suggested. “Just for a little while.”

Charlie ran off again; I could tell he had put two and two together, but Charles probably needed some time to process what I had just dropped on him. He stood up with a sigh and looked at Uncle.

“Can Evie borrow Nell?” he asked.  
“Well, sure,” Uncle replied.  
“Another Nell?” I muttered. “I-I don’t think I should--”  
“Your kids’ll be safe,” John assured me. “Go.”  
♞♞♞

Charles and I found ourselves in a clearing after a decent amount of riding. We’d not said anything to each other or about anything on the way over. I knew he wanted to talk in private -- well, as private as the outdoors could get. Now that we were stopped, he still didn’t say anything. He didn’t look angry; just...extremely focused. I knew that if I had been told something as significant as this, I would have gone absolutely silent, too. I leaned forward and pat Nell’s mane.

“Charles, I’m sorry,” I told him.  
“Don’t be,” he said.  
“Are you okay? It’s-It’s--”  
“I ain’t mad at you. If I should be mad at anyone, I should be mad at myself.”  
“No. Don’t. It didn’t even occur to me to make you mad at yourself.”  
“There was no easy way to tell me about Charlie, Evie. And raisin’ him as his own probably didn’t sit too well with Sean.”  
“He said he’d take care of him like he was his own, but...he did really want a baby of his own as well.”

I didn’t want Charles blaming himself for not being in Charlie’s life at all. If anyone was to blame, it was me. I hadn’t necessarily lied to Charlie as he grew up -- I just never told him who his father was until he asked. He just assumed that Sean was his father because he was the man who had always been there and fed him and took care of us. Even though Charlie was slightly light skinned thanks to my being white, it was so completely obvious that he was Charles’ and mixed race.

“If I’d known, I would have come back for you,” Charles admitted.  
“Oh, Charles, even I didn’t know at the time,” I said with dismay. “Even when I was becoming so ill, I only suspected. And for all I knew, he could have been a demon spawn. I-I should have tried to find you, but this country is so big I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”  
“No. I know that as soon as I was done helpin’ Rains Fall, I should have sent a letter to Arkansas. Maybe my thinkin’ was that you wanted to return to your old life and having me in it would only remind you of everything that happened.”  
“My old life wasn’t welcoming with open arms. The girls I grew up with were not the same girls I thought I knew, everyone else seemed so much more stuck up, and don’t even get me started on Father O’Malley. And the schoolhouse. My _God_, the schoolhouse." I shook my head. "Truthfully, Charles, I don’t think any of us could ever really forget what happened. I’m surprised Sean didn’t drink more, even though we had children in the house.”  
“What about you?”  
“I wish I could forget everything that happened in that cabin and in my tent. Sometimes, I... I still wake up screaming. And, you know, even if we were married, I still couldn’t trust Sean enough.”

Charles was still the only man to have seen me naked after all of the scars I got from the cabin and from Bonnie trying to kill me. Dutch remained the only man to ever see me naked with a body like a clean slate. There were still times over the years that I needed a short moment to hide and scold myself about how stupid I’d been to get involved with him. So many things would have turned out differently if I had just obeyed Cornelius. Even if we couldn’t turn back time, I still heavily ridiculed myself over it.

“How is he?” Charles asked. “Charlie, I mean.”  
“He’s a good boy,” I replied. “Helps me with Siobhán and he likes to read and fish. Before Siobhán was born, I would take him out on Maple for a ride. I guess you figured it out by what he said about my locket, but he knows who you are.”  
“It must have been hard, not knowin’ whose kid he was gonna be, but...I don’t think it’d take a genius to figure out what you woulda done if it hadn’t been mine. And then comin’ from a town like yours, it must have been even harder to raise a child like him.”  
“I got the stares and the comments, and I tried to protect Charlie from them the best I could. They let him go to the schoolhouse to learn only because I was his mother, a white woman. But that didn’t stop the other children and the adults from hurting him -- punching him, beating him up, calling him such...awful, awful names. No matter how much I tried to talk to the parents of the kids or the adults at the schoolhouse, nothing changed. I had to pull him away from that place and teach him from home. I’m trying to do right by him.”  
“You really ain’t the same lady who showed up in camp that day and it shows. Tryin’ to turn your life around is a good thing; you must know that, Evie.”

“Trying” was definitely the word for it. Of course when things got bad, I still wanted to drink myself stupid, but I didn’t because I knew how I was when I drank too much; I couldn’t and wouldn’t subject my children to that. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night, too, and go for a horseback ride, knowing that my kids were safe and sound, sleeping, with Sean just two bedrooms over. But I never regretted Charlie or Siobhán. I could understand where Bonnie came from after both of them came along. The things I had been through, the things I had witnessed, the things I remembered... They all made it so difficult to try and turn my life around. I completely understood why she’d left me, even if she turned out to be such a cruel woman. But I had to be stronger than her; those urges I felt to return to my old ways that I had when I was with the gang couldn’t win. I wasn’t going to abandon my babies; not for anything.

“I’m not expecting you to jump in right away and act like a father toward Charlie,” I mentioned quietly. “It’s...fine if you’re not comfortable. I know that the meeting was sudden.”  
“I don’t know much about being a father,” Charles replied. “Probably how most parents feel when they find out they _are_ gonna be parents. I don’t even know if he’ll like me, but I’ll get to know ’im first.”  
“Don’t push yourself.”  
“I’ll take it easy.”  
“You don’t...take it eas-- Huh?”  
“I’m just saying that I don’t wanna scare him.”  
“He’s a brave boy; he’s just shy around...certain...people...”  
“I understand.”  
“There’s really not much in the way of different kinds of people in Arkansas. There are the white people, the white people who have white babies and black maids, and then the black maids with black babies. All the children at the schoolhouse and the teachers were white. It was confusing for him to be tormented by the white people outside but loved and cared for by the white people inside the house.”  
“He ain’t had an easy time of it.”

Even if I had no control of it, was I selfish for keeping Charlie? I couldn’t understand the struggles that came with society’s views on black people or Indians. Deep down, I knew I only kept him because he was Charles’ baby. I’d been planning to get rid of him if he’d come out white, after all. But I loved him. I loved him so much and I only wanted to protect him, no matter the measures I had to take. If I had to kill someone to keep him safe, then I would. I didn’t want him, or Siobhán, to feel the same kinds of feelings I felt or the bad things I had experienced. Of course, I knew that I wouldn’t be around forever, but so long as I was around, my children were going to have the best life possible that I could give them. If anything made me not want to die, it was those two kids.

“I know you take care of him,” Charles said.  
“I could take _better_ care of him,” I replied.  
“You’re doin’ your best. Better than most of our parents ever did for us.”

I sighed and leaned forward. It wasn’t like he was _wrong_. After his mother had been taken away, his own father fell to the call of whiskey. My mother was a horrible monster of a woman and my father had been completely ignorant for most of his life while he tried to control me. I didn’t know too much about anyone elses parents, but I could imagine that if they ended up where all of us had there had to be _something_ wrong there. The most I knew about Dutch’s mother was that she didn’t raise him right, clearly. But what was the “right” way to raising someone? Probably do well enough by them that they didn’t end up turning into a gang leader who thought he was God. I shook my head as I sat back up.

“I’m glad to see that you’re alright,” I mumbled shyly.  
“You, too,” he replied.  
“This might be out of place, but I missed you.”  
“Why would that be out of place?”  
My face became hot. “Well, you know...eight years and all that...and telling you about Charlie, and I don’t know where to go from here...”  
“Evie, it ain’t like I’m seein’ no one. I missed you, too, okay?”  
“I’m not used to being around stoic people anymore. I-I’m so used to being able to read someone’s face...”

Charles moved his horse closer to Nell and grabbed my hand. I hadn’t expected to be shy at all. There had always been something about just being alone with him. Never did I figure out what that was, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it was made me feel better.

“Where are you staying?” he inquired.  
“The saloon in Blackwater,” I sighed. “It’s not the best place to live with two children, but it’s hopefully temporary and it’s better than the streets.”  
“We probably got stuff to do at the ranch still, but when I’m done helping out, you think I can come see you?”  
“You mean tonight or _whenever_ you get done?”  
“Tonight. We don’t work all night.”  
“You can.”

Charles leaned over and kissed me. That...I had not expected. When he pulled away, I just wanted him to do it again. But he mentioned we should head back to Beecher’s Hope and I agreed. As much as I wanted to spend time with him, I really needed to get back to my kids. We’d been gone long enough -- at least in my eyes. As we approached the ranch, I could hear Siobhán crying loudly in the distance. I kicked Nell’s sides to make her go faster. Around the campfire, I found Charlie and Uncle trying to calm her down, and John looked like he had no idea what to do.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I hopped down from the horse.  
“We tried feedin’ her, changin’ her, bouncin’ her, but ain’t nothin’ worked,” Uncle explained.

He handed Siobhán to me and her crying quickly subsided to just sniffling. I kissed her cheeks and wiped her tears away.

“Sometimes all a baby needs is their mother,” I sighed with relief. “Yeah, isn’t that right? Mama’s got you.”  
“You’re a natural,” John told me.  
“I’ve never been away from her for so long. She must have gotten scared when I didn’t immediately come to her. Are you doing okay, Charlie?”  
“I was confused for a minute, but Mister Marston told me where you went,” Charlie replied.  
“You don’t gotta call me that, kid,” John mentioned.  
“What do I call you?”

Charlie looked at Charles, who had gotten off his horse and was standing next to me. Charles looked back at him. Oh, that was something we hadn’t discussed. Well, I did tell him I didn’t expect him to jump in and act like a father right away.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he replied.  
“I think it’s time we head back to town,” I said. “You men need to work, I hear.”  
“The roads ain’t safe. I’ll take you back.”  
“We arrived alright.”  
“Evie...”

Charles was worried; and when Charles was worried, there was a good reason to be and that meant I had to be worried, too. I didn’t want to scare Charlie or Siobhán, so I simply nodded. After helping Charlie into the back of the wagon, I handed him his sister and got up onto the seat next to Charles. He must have been concerned about that supposed “weird gang” Sadie told me about. I didn’t know if she called them “weird” because they were _weird_ or if she just didn’t want to scare me out of going back to Blackwater with her. In any case, I decided to ask Charles about it.

“So...Sadie told me about a gang around here,” I said. “She said they were somehow weird, but I don’t know what she means by that.”  
“The Skinner Brothers,” he replied.  
“What kind of name...?!”  
“They’re weird in a Murfree Brood kinda way.”

I swallowed hard at the mere mention of those people. Those people had sounded horribly terrifying and looked equally as terrifying. That was what years of inbreeding did, I guessed. At least the Grays and Braithwaites had looked “normal”, for the most part.

“I don’t mean that they eat other humans,” Charles told me. “I’m talkin’ how they kidnap people, mostly men, and they do some pretty messed up stuff to ’em.”  
“I’m guessing they’re called what they are because they...skin people?” I mumbled.  
“Yeah. They don’t wait till they’re dead, neither.”

I looked back at Charlie and Siobhán. They were both preoccupied looking at the scenery and wild animals, at least, so they couldn’t exactly hear what we were saying. I was more concerned about Charlie, of course; he was old enough to understand what was being said. What did I drag my babies into? _Where_ did I drag my babies to? Times were changing, that was for sure. Maybe if I had been a young mother before I joined the gang, I wouldn’t have minded raising my children in Blackwater. But now? Arkansas was sounding like it was a much better place to be, even if was away from everyone. I had to put them first; just because Charles was in Blackwater I had to think about my kids before my own selfish wants.

“You got that look on your face,” he mentioned.  
“What look?” I asked.  
“You’re thinkin’ real hard about something, Evie. I don’t wanna scare you, okay? They’re more likely to attack a caravan than a woman on the road with her children.”  
“A murderous gang with morals. What a concept." I rolled my eyes at my sarcastic comment. "I know _we_ weren’t murderous, but it definitely felt like it when everything started going to shit.”  
“Mama!” Charlie gasped.  
“Sorry, baby. Anyway, it also felt like _I_ was going to go on a murderous rampage back then.”  
Charles chuckled. “You probably would’ve done some damage.”

I looked at him, my heart feeling like it skipped a beat. That had been unexpected. Back then if I _had_ gone on a murderous rampage in camp things wouldn’t have turned out very well. Indeed, I would have gotten through enough people, but I also would have been killed myself. Either that or I probably needed to be pried off of whoever I pinned to the ground and kicked out of camp. I still felt ashamed that I took so long to leave camp, but whatever was done...was done.

“What are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Charles wondered.  
“Huh?” I shook my head. “Oh. No. It’s nothing, really.”  
“You can tell me.”  
“It’s just that I...don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before.”  
“Wasn’t much to laugh about back then. Let's get you home."


	39. Chapter 39

I opened the door to Charles standing there. I’d not had time to make myself look somewhat presentable. Siobhán had been fussing ever since we got back to the saloon. She refused to go down for a nap, even after I fed her, and she didn’t let me put her down for anything. Charlie wasn’t even able to take her. I even tried giving her things to chew on, thinking that perhaps her teeth were coming in. I got to thinking that maybe it was Sean she wanted, but of course he wasn’t around. I was so tired; ordinarily if she went down for a nap, I was able to rest as well while Charlie read or also took a small nap. After not sleeping well at all the night before and now lacking a nap, both Siobhán and I were at the end of our ropes.

“You doin’ okay?” Charles asked when I invited him into the room.  
“No,” I sniffled. “Nothing I do is helping.”  
“I guess this ain’t normal for her?”  
“No, not at all. I’m so tired. I know she’s tired, too, but...”  
“Have you tried taking her out on your horse?”

I gestured to Charlie, who was heavily immersed in his book. He probably didn’t even realize Charles was with us. I trusted my boy not to run off; it was most of the people in Blackwater I didn’t trust. Who was to say someone wouldn’t come up to the room and try to see if I was in, and then just make off with Charlie? I didn’t want to risk that happening. Someone needed to watch him if I was going to take Siobhán outside.

“I’ll watch him,” Charles suggested.  
“You don’t have to,” I told him. “Really. You shouldn’t jump into anything too fast and-and besides, Siobhán has never been on a horse and that just may scare her even more.”

He suddenly took Siobhán from me and her crying immediately changed from screaming to some sniffles. I could only assume she reacted that way because she was able to pull Charles’ hair. Was she just bored, then? I didn’t understand what was going on with her. Charlie had been such a good baby and he was still a good kid, but Siobhán was something else. I didn’t know how her brother was able to read so well while she cried but he certainly did it. I rubbed my eyes with a tired sigh.

“It’s hard doing this by myself,” I said.  
“Sean shouldn’t have left,” Charles replied sternly.  
“I can’t do anything about it now.”

I started sobbing and this brought Charlie out of reading. He ran up to me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. He didn’t need to ask and I didn’t need to tell him _why_ I was crying. I had so much frustration built up inside and then of course I was exhausted and worried about how my children would turn out without a stable parent. I couldn’t go find a job because of Siobhán and even if I could, what place besides the saloon would hire a woman with two children and a scarred face?

“I should have known sooner or later he was going to leave,” I sobbed. “Maybe I just thought that Siobhán would’ve made a difference. How foolish can I be?”  
“Hey, Sean is the fool,” Charles quickly retorted. “You don’t marry a lady, have a baby, and then run off.”  
“I was fine going with him, but, you know, he said all that travelling wouldn’t be good for the kids. God -- Sean MacGuire, you stupid idiot. Leaving me alone with two children when I can’t even take care of myself.”  
“Evie, you’re doin’ your best.”  
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head with a sniffle and pat Charlie’s back. “Really. I forgot to feed him yesterday. Wha-What mother _does_ that? A bad one.”  
“I said I’m okay, Mama,” Charlie reminded me.  
“I can think of enough people who you’re better than,” Charles said.

Siobhán was falling asleep, finally, in his arms. I wanted to do right by my children, but it really was true that I could barely take care of myself, much less the two of them. I couldn’t even calm my baby down and give her something new to ease her boredom or remember to feed my boy. Then of course I couldn’t exactly remember the last time I ate a full meal. I wanted to be a good mother and I even tried to be a good wife even when I knew I couldn’t be. If it weren’t for Sadie coming when she did, the family home would most likely just be in ashes.

“Listen, you ain’t gonna do this alone,” Charles sighed. “You got Sadie and you got me, if you want. You might end up having Abigail, too. Seems like you got Charlie to help, too.”  
“What do you mean ‘if I want’ you?” I asked. “Of course I do, but--”  
“Then you just need to ask.”  
“But--”  
“Hush, Evie.”

Charlie let me go so I could hug Charles. I missed him so much. If I regretted anything, it was not being more firm with him when I had wanted to go with him and Arthur to help Eagle Flies, and marrying Sean. I loved Sean and even if he left me, I still loved him. But I obviously would have preferred to always have been with Charles. It wasn’t fair that I had married someone I didn’t exactly want a future with and somehow it just felt like a waste of time. What I didn’t regret was, of course, having Charlie and Siobhán. I should have been more firm with Sean, too -- I shouldn’t have just let him run off like he had.

“We all got things we regret,” Charles reminded me.  
“Mama, you don’t regret me, do you?” Charlie mumbled.

I didn’t think he understood what that word meant, but nonetheless I let Charles go and instead kneeled in front of him. He wasn’t a regret of mine. Not ever did I regret the decision of having and keeping him in my life. He was my precious little boy. Maybe I had another regret. No, I definitely did, and it was letting him grow up thinking Sean was his father. I was only so lucky he was an understanding child and smart and kind enough to not be angry with me about everything.

“Here, give her to me,” I sniffled as I stood back up. “I’ll put her to bed.”

Siobhán stayed asleep as I placed her into the bassinet. Hopefully she wouldn’t be like that again, otherwise I didn’t know what I would do.

“You should get some rest,” Charles suggested.  
“I’ll be okay,” I replied.  
“Remember when you’d stay up for days? You gotta sleep.”  
“You wanna see my dream catchers?” Charlie asked.  
“If you’re okay watching him...” I mumbled.  
“Sleep, Evie,” Charles insisted.

I relented and kissed his cheek, mentioning how that, even eight years later, he was something else completely. Now especially after marrying Sean and dropping Charlie on him I felt like I still didn’t deserve him. But he was being kind enough to watch my boy while I tried to rest and it seemed as if he wasn’t going to give up trying to get me to sleep. I fell asleep to the sound of him and Charlie talking about the dream catchers. I’d taught Charlie how to make them from when he was still a toddler. Sometimes he would just watch me and other times he’d make his own. It took him some practice, of course, but by the time Siobhán came along, he had a box full of them.

As uninterested as Charles sounded, I knew that wasn’t the case. Being vocal was never his forté, after all. But I supposed he also didn’t exactly know how to interact with a child. I’d not seen him speak to Jack all that much in our camps all those years ago and Jack had been the only kid in camp at all. Well, as far as children went, at least -- Lenny was technically a kid, too, back then, considering he was the second youngest with us. But that was a big difference between a four-year-old and a nineteen-year-old -- an adult could speak to the latter about whatever was happening, but not the former.

Did I expect Charles to be able to immediately understand how to be a father if he wanted to be? Of course I didn’t. There was nothing I could expect from him and I didn’t want to. If he didn’t want to be a father, he didn’t have to be. It was on me for suddenly introducing Charlie to him. Perhaps if Sadie hadn’t needed to head out for a bounty, I could have had her watch the kids, spend time at the ranch, and then prepare Charles to meet him. I’d not tried to find him to tell him; it wouldn’t be fair to him or right of me to just assume he would even want Charlie. Just because I loved my little boy didn’t mean that he would.

It was a few hours later that I woke up to Charles saying my name quietly and gently shaking me.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.  
“Yeah,” he replied. “Charlie’s asleep. I have to head back to the ranch, unless you want me to stay.”  
“I’d like you to, but if you have to go back, go. I’ll be okay with them.”  
“You’re sure?”  
“Yes; really, go.”  
♞♞♞

“Hey,” Sadie said in the morning. “How’d the ranch go?”  
“I was surprised, to say the least,” I told her. “It was nice seeing Charles. Thank you for convincing me.”  
“You two was always sweet on each other, so I figured, y’know...” She shrugged and sat on the stool next to Charlie. “And how are you doin’?”  
“Waiting for my porridge,” he said cheerily. “And I met Charles yesterday. He’s nice.”  
“Are you going to tell me now or do I really have to wait?” I asked with a sigh. “Don’t think I forgot.”

I motioned to Siobhán, who was looking through one of her picture books while sitting in her pram. She wasn’t even aware that Sadie was around, it seemed. Sadie looked around before standing up again and coming to sit next to me instead. I knew whatever it was that Sean really did to get a wanted poster all the way in Blackwater was worse than he led me to believe. She didn’t need to beat around the bush with me; I thought it was more than fair she just tell me outright.

“Sean was only tryin’ to do right by you,” she explained. “Said it weren’t fair that no money was comin’ in, even if ya inherited all of your daddy’s money, that you were supportin’ everyone.”  
“What does that mean?” I muttered.  
“Apparently, y’know, it started out real small. A couple unguarded luggage cars of a train, a stage unattended... Nothin’ too bad.”  
“Sadie.”  
“He got caught on the last train and he killed some of the workers on it. In self-defence, of course, but the train companies don’t care ’bout that. Got the bounty ’bout a month ago, found Sean on the trail, talked to him about it.”  
“Why didn’t you take the bounty?”  
“I ain’t gonna do that to ya, Evie. Jesus, who do ya think I am? Far as the sheriff was concerned, Sean was gone.”  
“But...I still don’t understand why he left, then. If you let him go...”  
“I’m thinkin’ bounty hunters did end up spookin’ him into makin’ his decision, but I told him that he talk it over with you and leave town or I would tell ya.”  
“If I ever see him again, remind me to slap him.”

I guessed Sean really hadn’t been adjusting well to an almost normal lifestyle. Well, his family fell apart, so that obviously didn’t help one bit, and Charlie came along and it took a while for him to get his own child out of me. He grew up with an outlaw, became an outlaw, and couldn’t stop being an outlaw, it seemed. Did I blame him? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to think of him anymore. Maybe he hadn’t told me the truth because he thought I wouldn’t understand why it happened. Sean probably didn’t want us to have an argument about it. Was his decision to do what he did justified? He only wanted to do right by us, by _Siobhán_, but sooner or later it would have had to backfire, and it clearly had. I knew he still carried his guns with him, but how foolish I was to think that they were meant for hunting. Hell, even I still carried around my gun and had my crossbow if I needed it -- but _only_ for self-defence.

“It feels like he was just looking for a way out,” I said quietly.  
“Why’s that?” Sadie wondered.  
“I heard him talking to Lenny one time just before he and Beth left. Sean thinks that I regret that time in Rhodes.”  
“Do you?”  
I looked at her, furrowing my eyebrows. “Of course I don’t! So what if we argued a lot? That doesn’t change how I felt and feel about him. If I regretted what happened, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him or even keep Siobhán when she was born.”  
“He mentioned a few times that he thinks you would’ve preferred to marry...you know...”  
“I wanted a future with Charles. If he’ll still have me, I still want one. Sean wouldn’t have left with me if it hadn’t been for Arthur. Siobhán wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Arthur, either, and...”

I was a bad mother. To think I was really going to say that I wished my daughter wasn’t around. I did wish things had turned out different -- that our gang didn’t fall apart, that Arthur shouldn’t be dead, that Hosea should have continued living for just a while longer... Perhaps most of all was that, if it all turned out the same but with one different, I wished that I’d been with Charles the whole time and not Sean. I loved my baby girl; really, truly, I did, but there were some things that were probably better off different. Maybe I always lied to myself, saying that I loved her just as much as I loved Charlie. Did I only love Charlie because he was Charles’? The answer should have been obvious -- I wouldn’t have a son if he was Micah’s. No, he would be off somewhere else, either in an orphanage or with some other family. As much as I wanted to be a better person than Joanne and the other girls back home, I wasn’t. I was just as cold-hearted and shallow as they were, just in a different way.

“I was a bad wife and I’m an even worse mother,” I whimpered.  
“Don’t--” Sadie began.  
“I know I am; don’t try to convince me otherwise. Charles thinks I’m doing my best and I’m really not.”  
“Ain’t no one knows how to be a parent, you know. I get it, it’s gotta be scary, but--”  
“For the love of God, Sadie, I am _not_ a good mother whatsoever. I am not a good person; not a good mother; and I really was not a good wife. I’m not better than anyone.”  
“You’re better than Bonnie, eh?”  
“She didn’t love me, either, and she let them do all that stuff to me, remember?”  
“Evangeline, that’s enough. You ain’t that evil like your mother.”  
“It doesn’t matter. I’m still not _good_.”  
“Charles believes you’re a good person. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

Sure, it meant something. He didn’t beat around the bush and if he really thought I was something bad, he’d have done something about it already, either a long time ago or when we were alone together at that clearing the day before. It wasn’t fair that Sadie was using him against me the way she was; maybe anyone in the gang, if anyone else was still alive, would think I was a good parent just because I didn’t leave my children alone to wander, or I didn’t take off, or I didn’t abuse them, and whatever the hell else. By comparison, I must have seemed like a saint compared to however Dutch’s mother raised him. I wasn’t letting myself be drowned by liquor, either.

“I need to be held accountable for something,” I muttered. “It might as well be that I’m a worse mother than I thought. I didn’t want her, you know.”  
“Don’t talk like that,” Sadie scolded.  
“I’m serious.” I looked at her. “The only reason I kept her is because Sean wanted her. I love her and Charlie for the wrong reasons.”  
“But you _do_ love them, and that’s more than what a lot of kids ever get to experience. So, y’know, even if you don’t feel like you’re doin’ good enough, you’re at least _tryin_’ to do your best.”  
“Fine.”  
“I know you’re just sayin’ that so I’ll stop talkin’ about it, but I’m serious.”

I leaned on the bar, resting my chin on the back of my hand. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she wasn’t serious. That didn’t matter, though. I was so tired of not being held accountable for the feelings I had toward my kids. If Sean had left before I gave birth to Siobhán, I probably wouldn’t have kept her, and everyone knew the story about Charlie and if he had been Micah’s. I didn’t need to abandon my children to be a bad parent; just thinking about the things that would have happened if _some things_ had been different was bad enough. Not loving my children unconditionally was horrible. How could anyone think I was a good person after finding out what I thought of Charlie and Siobhán?

Sadie had turned her attention back to Charlie, who was now stuffing his face with porridge. A simple saloon meal was better than anything I could ever prepare for him. I looked down at Siobhán, who had fallen asleep while cuddling her picture book. It wasn’t like I didn’t love them at all; I did, but not for the right reasons.

“Well, hey, how much are _you_?” a man asked, sidling up to me.

He blocked my view from Siobhán and I immediately tried to get around him to be able to keep an eye on her. I didn’t have time for a drunk man’s game, nor did I have the patience. My patience and my temper were already thin from Sean essentially lying to me and for Sadie thinking she could keep it a secret from me. I didn’t need this man’s supposed “romantic” advances. He stepped in front of me, still obstructing my view from Siobhán. I exhaled sharply and folded my arms across my chest.

“What do you _want_?” I snapped.  
“I asked how much you are,” the man replied, slightly annoyed that he had to repeat himself.  
“Don’t worry ’bout this, okay?” Sadie told Charlie. “She’s takin’ care of it.”  
“More than what you can afford, I’m sure,” I said, matter-of-factly.  
“Yeah?” the stranger replied. “Try me.”  
“How about you take a guess?”  
“Pretty lady like you? Probably...ten dollars?”  
I chuckled for a moment at this man’s audacity but then abruptly stopped. “I’m not even a prostitute.”

I turned back toward the bar, glancing at Sadie. She was doing a good job of preoccupying Charlie, at least. Just when I thought the man was going to just give up and walk away, he grabbed me from behind. My breathing became slightly ragged and I turned to look at him.

“Get away from me, _now_,” I warned him.  
“Evie, look--” Sadie began when she turned me toward her.  
“Take it easy, princess,” the man demanded before grabbing me even harder.

That was the last straw and my tipping point. My eyes welled up with tears, I ripped myself out of Sadie’s grasp, and I looked up at this man. I’d not felt so disgusting _and_ disgusted in such a long time. The memories that were coming back were scaring me beyond belief. Nightmares were one thing -- at least those I could wake up from and immediately forget what it had been about. But memories? Thoughts? Those weren’t as easy to forget.

I kicked the man in his groin and, once he was down on the floor in pain, took my gun out to hit him with. When he tried to get back up, I merely hit him and kicked him. The commotion caused a ruckus throughout the saloon, as I knew it would have. I’d wanted to not be violent in front of Charlie or Siobhán, but I just couldn’t let it go. All that pain came flooding back.

“Mama?” Charlie cried.  
“C’mere,” Sadie told him. “Grab your sister.”

I could only assume that she dragged my children away from me or out of the saloon altogether. She knew what I was like when I felt violated. I kept beating on this ridiculous stranger until his, I assumed, friends came over to help him up. They weren’t able to help him, though.

“Do you know who I am?!” I shrieked, jumping onto him and continuing to beat him. “I am Tessa Evangeline Locke! You don’t mess with me, you hear me?! Didn’t your mama teach you any different or how to respect a woman?! I guess not! Son of a whore! I am _not_ a goddamn princess!”

Unbeknownst to me, one of the patrons had run to get the sheriff. Never mind the fact that this random man had decided to grab me, the sheriff arrested me for public disturbance and violence. I didn’t go quietly, of course; I screamed, kicked, and cried as he carried me over to the jail. He placed me into a cell.

“You can cool down in there ’till someone comes to get you or ’till you’ve served enough time,” he told me.  
“He started it,” I sniffled, wiping at my eyes.  
“I’m sure he did.”

I sat down on the cell’s bed with my arms folded across my chest. I was so angry that I was shaking. To think that some men were like Micah or his so-called friends when the times were changing so quickly. I could only hope that Charlie didn’t turn out that way and I could also only hope that Siobhán would never have to experience the horrible things I had. Sitting in that cell, I didn’t care if anyone came for me or not. It didn’t _matter_.

It was early evening when the door into the jailhouse opened. There was Charles, with Charlie trailing behind him.

“Mama!” Charlie exclaimed, running up to the cell’s door.  
“I’m so sorry,” I huffed.

Nothing was said when the sheriff let me out. Charlie grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the jailhouse as quickly as he could. I hadn’t wanted him to see me in a cell, ever. Outside, I wrapped my arms around myself. I was a fool. Such a goddamn and ridiculous fool. My kids had been_ right there_ and I’d not been able to keep myself from freaking out.

“I’ll pay you back,” I muttered when Charles stepped out.  
“It ain’t me you have to pay back,” he replied. “Don’t think Sadie will expect it, though.”  
“It doesn’t matter who paid to get me out. I’m sorry that you came to get me.”  
“Are you okay?”

I shook my head, sniffling. I’d not beaten someone up like that in so long; hadn’t gotten angry like that in so many years. If I had been by myself when it happened, then I wouldn’t have been beating myself up so much about freaking out. Charlie wrapped his arms around me tightly.

“John said it’s fine if you wanna stay at the ranch,” Charles mentioned.  
“No,” I mumbled. “I won’t get into trouble again, okay? I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t have to apologize to me, y’know. Sadie told us what happened.”  
“Mama, you were great!” Charlie mused, looking up at me.  
“What?” I asked.

He continued on to tell me how excited he’d been to see me beat someone up. Sean had told him stories about how I’d been when we’d been in the gang. He was excited because he never thought he would ever get to see it, and then he _did_. I’d not scared him like I thought I did. Charlie just kept musing about what an amazing person I was. I hadn’t done anything all that great, but if he thought so then I wasn’t going to stop him. That made me feel a bit better; not much, though.

“But why did he treat you like that?” he suddenly wondered.  
“He’s just...not a good person, honey,” I told him. “Where’s Siobhán?”  
“Sadie’s got her at the saloon,” Charles replied. “We came back down with her. Let’s go. You need to eat somethin’.”


	40. Chapter 40

I awoke with a start, having had a nightmare. After blinking a few times, I realized I had my arms wrapped around Charlie, who was stuck between Charles and I. Sadie had been watching my kids for me after Charles had gotten me from the jail; my boy must have gotten up in the middle of the night to come back to the room I had rented for us and squeezed his way in between us. It wasn’t that I minded it; it was just unexpected. I checked my watch and saw that it was still early in the morning. There was no going back to sleep for me, though. As difficult as the day before had been and as tired as I was, I was too worried about having another nightmare to go back to sleep. There wasn’t really anything to do and I didn’t want to go for a horseback ride. Either Charlie would wake up and be concerned that I wasn’t there or that gang just might try to ambush me on the trail.

In the other room, Sadie’s room, I could hear Siobhán babbling to Sadie. I got up and stretched, before going over to the mirror to put my hair up. If it was down, Siobhán would constantly pull on it while I held her. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it was just outright annoying. After I was done, I headed over to Sadie’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Sadie called quietly.

Once I stepped into the room, Siobhán immediately began clapping and calling for me. From the look of things, she had just woken up because Sadie was getting ready for the day. I picked her up out of her bassinet with a sigh and she hugged me.

“You okay?” Sadie wondered. “Ya look tired.”  
“Bad dream, that’s all,” I mumbled, holding Siobhán close to me.  
“You and Charles doin’ good?”  
“He shouldn’t have had to come get me yesterday and you shouldn’t have had to pay to get me out--”  
“Evie, shut up. That guy deserved it. If it weren’t for the sheriff takin’ ya into the jail, you probably would’ve never cooled down.”  
“I shouldn’t have let myself get so upset, though. At least not in front of Charlie and Siobhán. I’ve never even raised my voice to Charlie. I’ve only been here for a few days and Charles has already had to come get me, just like he always did back then.”  
“He still loves you.”

I sighed. That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. Whether he loved me or not, he shouldn’t have come to get me, especially not out of a goddamn jail cell. I didn’t want things to go back to how they used to be other than the fact we loved each other. So many years later and I still hadn’t learned how to cope with sleazy men. There had been no need to since there were none in my town. I’d gotten too comfortable and perhaps forgotten just how disgusting some men could be.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about what Charlie thinks of you,” Sadie admitted. “Should’ve heard him talking to Charles on the way back here yesterday.”  
“I know,” I replied quietly. “He told me how much he liked seeing me fight. Sean told him a lot of old stories about the gang. H-He was...quite devastated to learn that Hosea...”  
“No blamin’ yourself, now.”  
“I miss him.”  
“Pretty sure we all do, but...”  
“Charlie wanted to meet him, you know?”  
“Sean ever tell him about Dutch?”  
“I wouldn’t let him, not when I was around, at least. We only ever referred to him as ‘a bad man’ around Charlie, but Sean probably let Dutch's name slip once or twice. He knows about Arthur and some of the others. Kieran, Mary Beth, and Lenny came around to see the kids from time to time, so he actually knows him. I don’t know if Sean ever told Charlie about Charles, but if he did he might start making some connections soon. He made the connection between the locket and meeting him quite quickly.”  
“I’ve got bounties I need to pick up and Charles is probably gonna be busy at the ranch for a while. Why don’t you take Charlie and Siobhán to see Hosea?”

Go all the way down to Lemoyne with my two kids by myself? Well, she wouldn’t be suggesting it if she didn’t think it wasn’t safe. It’s just that it was quite a distance and the three of us would be gone for at least a couple of days, if not a week or more. But I couldn’t just keep myself and the kids cooped up in our room all the time or be limited to just the town of Blackwater. I nodded in agreement before grabbing the bassinet and dragging it behind me to my room. Upon opening the door, I saw that Charles was getting ready to leave, too.

“You okay if I take off?” he asked.  
“U-Um, yeah,” I mumbled. “I know you have to start helping build the house...”  
“I can stay a while longer if ya need me to.”  
“No, no. You go. It’s fine. I’m actually gonna go see Hosea.”  
“That’s...a far way to go...”  
“I know, but Charlie hasn’t seen much of the country, an-and it’ll be good for him to see different sights... Both he and Siobhán also like looking at animals...and Charlie always wanted to meet Mister Matthews, and I know he’s gone, but it’s still...it’s still something...”  
“Just be careful, alright?”  
“You, too. Erm...I’ll send a telegram to the ranch when we’re back, if that’s okay.”

Charles nodded and then kissed my cheek before leaving. I was going to wait until Charlie woke up for us to leave; I didn’t want to wake him up and then rush him out the door. That was a sure fire way to get him sick and there was no way I wanted to make him sick. Neither of my kids had ever been horribly sick. Charlie once ate something that didn’t sit well with him and he vomited everywhere, but that was such a long time ago. Besides, it was still early in the morning and I was sure he needed the sleep after all the excitement of the previous day.

I played with Siobhán for a while before getting her dressed. Somehow, she knew we were going to be doing something more exciting than staying in Blackwater. It wasn’t too long until Charlie woke up.

“Where are we going?” he wondered, rubbing his eyes.  
“To see Mister Matthews,” I told him.  
“But he’s--”  
“I know, but I don’t think he gets many visitors. So it’ll be nice to place some new flowers there, maybe clean up a bit. Get dressed and I’ll get you some food.”  
♞♞♞

We had to go into Saint Denis to get some nice flowers for Hosea. I was staying as far away from Rhodes as I could while down in Lemoyne; I knew there weren’t any Grays or Braithwaites around anymore, but that place was just unpleasant. Charlie looked around as we walked through the streets of Saint Denis; he was awestruck by how advanced the city was compared to our hometown and Blackwater. He’d never seen a trolley before, either, and so badly wanted to ride on one. Well, he was in luck, because the trolley would take us to the florist.

“Mama, are you okay?” Charlie asked as we walked into the storefront.  
“It’s been a long time since I was last here,” I replied. “What kind of flowers should we get?”  
“Bleh,” Siobhán babbled, pointing at a bouquet of daisies.  
“We should go with those!” Charlie said. “Good choice.”

That had been easier than I expected, that was for certain. I’d never gotten the chance to ask Hosea what his favourite flower was -- if he had one at all -- otherwise I would have gotten him those. Hopefully he would be okay with the daisies. Charlie carried them out of the store after we paid for them and looked around. He didn’t want to leave so soon, but I promised him we could come back if he wanted to, after seeing Hosea.

“Evie? Evie!”

Charlie and I turned in the direction we heard my name being called. If I was holding anything other than Siobhán, I would have dropped it.

“Tilly!” I exclaimed happily.

I pulled her into a hug when she managed to walk over to us. She looked quite pregnant -- very happy, but also very pregnant.

“What are you doin’ down here?” she wondered. “Thought you went back to Arkansas.”  
“I stayed in Arkansas for a while,” I replied. “I’m in Blackwater now with Sadie.”  
“Who are these two?”  
My boy waved at her with a big smile on his face. “I’m Charlie and this is my little sister, Siobhán!”  
“So this is Charles’ kid, huh?” Tilly leaned over slightly and ruffled his hair. “Ain’t you adorable? And this cute little girl’s Sean’s, then?” She lightly pinched Siobhán’s cheek.  
“Yeah...” I sighed.  
She frowned. “How you getting on? All of that...”  
“Other than the nightmares and sometimes looking over my shoulder and Sean leaving me, I’m doing great.”  
“Sean left you?” Tilly shook her head. “That man...”  
“Charles is down in Blackwater, too. Seeing him after all this time was nice.”  
“Evie Locke, you should’ve married him instead.”  
I cleared my throat. “What about you? How are you doing?”

Tilly married a successful lawyer -- she was just as rich as I was, if not richer. She deserved to live a happy life after her family fell apart, after all, and the man she married was a really good man. It seemed that some of us who were able to get out either dealt with the aftermath extremely well or still struggled.

“You okay?” Tilly asked. “Why’re you cryin’?”  
“I’m just...so glad you’re okay,” I sniffled.  
“You’re gonna be okay eventually, too. I just know it, especially if Charles and Sadie are around. Well, I ain’t gonna keep you for any longer. Those flowers are for Hosea?”  
“Yes...”  
“Take care, okay?”

Charlie waved goodbye to her as she walked away. That was something I hadn’t been expecting. I’d never thought I would have seen Tilly again. It had been both a shocking and nice surprise. I missed more of the gang than I cared to admit. And I dared say it, I missed Pearson. His food had been barely edible, but at least he was a better cook than I ever could be. I exhaled sharply, looking down at Charlie.

“Let’s head back to the wagon,” I murmured.

We found our way back to where we had left the wagon and headed off toward where Hosea was buried. Charlie didn’t seem too happy about where we were going because he could hear the sound of the alligators hissing from the swamps. Siobhán didn’t seem to notice, though; she was too busy looking at the herons. Soon, we found ourselves near Hosea’s grave. He was buried in a nice shady spot. It didn’t look like anyone had visited him in a long while, or at all. I would have at least expected Dutch to go see him -- even if he did go mad, they were best friends. Well, Dutch was also probably hiding somewhere. Hiding for that long must have been hard on him. I shook my head as Charlie placed the bouquet of daisies in front of the makeshift tombstone for Hosea.

“Are you okay, Mama?” Charlie wondered, pulling on the sleeve of my dress. “You look sad.”  
“I’ll be fine,” I replied gently.

For so long, I tried not to let what happened that day in Saint Denis continue to get to me. I wanted to leave all of that in the past, but of course it was nearly impossible. The nightmares just didn’t consist of Colm, Bonnie, and the rest of the O’Driscolls hurting me or of Cornelius being killed the way he was or the things Micah did to me -- many of them were how I couldn’t save Hosea from dying. He’d have died eventually, obviously, of his tuberculosis, but being shot the way he had... I didn’t think he deserved it and I ultimately still blamed myself for his death. I didn’t need to be the one to have had shot him; it was the fact that I’d been standing _right there_ and I couldn’t grab onto him again quickly enough. If he stayed alive, I had to wonder where everyone would have been if things hadn’t become so bad thanks to Dutch and Micah’s ridiculous schemes. Would everyone still be together? Would everyone be living it up in Tahiti or wherever else?

“Charlie?” I knelt down next to my son, resting Siobhán on my knee.  
“Uh-huh?” he said.  
“Please promise me you won’t grow up to do anything bad.”  
“What do you mean? I have you! Why would I do bad things? They’re bad for a reason, Mama.”  
“I’m not going to be around forever. You know that. Just...after I’m gone...even now, or in a few years, don’t do anything bad. Defend yourself when you must, but...” I sighed, “don’t go joining or creating gangs, okay?”

Charlie blinked at me. I didn’t know if he had a want for adventure on the same level I had always wanted, but if he did I needed to make sure that he would make better decisions than I ever did. He looked at Hosea’s grave; it looked like he was thinking. Maybe he didn’t really understand what I was saying.

“I’m going to tell your sister the same thing when she’s old enough,” I admitted. “When you’re older, I can explain even more.”  
“I promise I won’t be bad,” Charlie mumbled, looking back at me.  
“Do you like adventuring? Did... Did you want more?”  
“I like being safe, Mama. When you, me, and Siobhán go adventuring, I know I’m safe, ’cause you’re here.”

I pulled him into a tight hug, which he immediately returned. He knew I didn’t regret him, but he knew I did regret doing many things I had done in my past. Cornelius should have been in his life; not six feet under the ground. Even if Charlie was mixed, I was sure my father would have loved him, and I knew he would love Siobhán, too. I didn’t regret Charles, or Sean, or Sadie, or any of the others I remained friends with. If I didn’t meet Dutch, then I wouldn’t have met any of them, and my children wouldn’t even exist. Of course I loved them -- albeit I loved one more than the other -- but if I had just stopped being so stubborn they’d never be born.

“I wanna try camping,” Charlie mentioned as he pulled away.  
“Camping?” I stood back up. “It’s been a long time since I’ve even camped. But...I’m sure when we get back to Blackwater, we can figure something out. Should we head back now?”  
“Yes!” Charlie looked at Hosea’s tombstone and held his hand up. “It was nice meeting you, Mister Matthews!”  
“Take Siobhán and I’ll be there in a moment.”

I stayed behind at the grave. It felt like I should have said something, but I didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t want me blaming myself for his death. If there was a chance that heaven or hell existed and spirits really were able to look over the living, then he’d know I did, and he’d know that I had children, and know what became of the gang. Well...

“You knew that something bad would happen eventually,” I said. “We could have used your words during that time, you know? You just knew how to make everyone feel better. Uh...but enough of that, I guess... I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Maybe I thought, deep down, that if I didn’t come see you, I could never move forward.” I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. “It didn’t matter what I did or what I do now; you can never really escape the past.”

I kicked the dirt gently so as not to lift up any grass. I was sure I wasn’t the only one who missed him. A lot of people got hit really hard when they found out he’d died. No one could do anything about it. With a final sigh, I turned around to head back to the wagon. I frowned, noticing that Charlie and Siobhán weren’t alone. Maybe it was just a lost traveller on the trail. I quickly walked over to the wagon.

“Mama!” Charlie shouted, frightened.

The person who was with them turned around as he ran up to me and hid behind me. It felt like my heart stopped for a few seconds. I wanted to scream -- what the hell was he doing all the way down in Lemoyne? How had he managed to keep such a low profile that no one heard hide nor hair of him in years? At least he was alone, or at least that was what I hoped. Charlie was hiding behind me because this was another unknown white man to him and he definitely looked scary. Scarier than I remembered, but perhaps it was because it was evident he had aged. Some people aged gracefully, like Sadie or John, but...not him.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked angrily.  
“I could ask you the same thing, Miss Locke.”  
“Mama?” Charlie mumbled. “Who’s that? Another bad person?”  
“Yes; stay behind me,” I told him.

I was going to have to tell Sadie and John about this. Well, they were more after Micah than they were Dutch, but perhaps if I told them the last location of Dutch, then he could lead them to that less-than-vermin waste of air. Charlie had already witnessed be get angry enough to beat a man up; I didn’t want to do it again. As much as I came to loathe Dutch, he was still my first everything and I still cared about him at least a little. But I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him now if he even made mention of hurting my babies.

“Bleh,” Siobhán babbled, pulling on my sleeve from behind me.  
“I see you’ve been busy, Evie,” Dutch mentioned.  
“That’s Mrs MacGuire to you, Mister van der Linde,” I snapped.

I never went by Sean’s last name, even after we were married, but under the circumstances I considered it appropriate. Even if he left me, we were still together in the eyes of the Lord, if there really was one, and so I was documented as MacGuire back home in Arkansas and in Washington. Charlie only had my real last name, Locke, because Charles hadn’t been around, otherwise he would have Smith as his last name instead.

“Ah.” Dutch folded his arms across his chest. “So you didn’t run off to marry Mister Smith. Explains why both you and Sean were missin’ at the same time.”  
“You’re not that dumb,” I huffed. “Arthur wanted Sean to keep me safe because Charles decided it would be best to help the Indians. You remember them, don’t you? Or at least you remember that you got the chief’s son killed with your ridiculous ideas. And here I was hoping maybe you were dead or, at the very least, miles and miles away in Tahiti.”  
“Still spiteful even after all these years.”  
“Old habits die hard, I guess. If you want to rob us, good luck. We don’t have anything. We only came to see Mister Matthews.”

I was ready to reach for my gun at any moment should he even take one small step toward my children and I. Charlie was shaking behind me. Dutch was a scary white man to him; hell, even_ I_ was scared, but that went without saying. It appeared that my statement had struck a nerve inside of Dutch. Why else would I have been down in Lemoyne? To go gator hunting? To go see Rhodes? I scowled at him.

“If you’re not down here to see Mister Matthews, then I have no other idea as to why you would be down here, Dutch,” I said. “It’d be wrong for you not to see him after everything that happened.”  
“And Sean didn’t come with you?” Dutch wondered, sounding like his old condescending self.  
“He’s...preoccupied...”  
“You mean he left you. You’ve got two children...and he left you.”  
I decided to lie through my teeth. “No, I mean he’s repairing our house.”  
“Our roof leaks!” Charlie shouted.  
“Uh-huh,” Dutch muttered.  
“If you’ll excuse us, we need to be on our way,” I told him, moving to get on the wagon.

He put a hand on my shoulder to keep me from moving and I immediately took my gun out and pointed it right at him. I was scared and if something happened to me, Charlie wouldn’t know who to ask for help. If he ran back to Saint Denis, it was such a big city he wouldn’t be able to find the police station on his own. And a little boy running through the streets with a baby of a different skin colour wouldn’t bode well with people who chose to be ignorant.

“You keep your hands _off_ of me, Dutch van der Linde,” I demanded.  
“What?” Dutch said in a mocking voice, before speaking normally. “We ain’t seen each other in years and you’re just gonna run off like that?”  
“Beat him up!” Charlie exclaimed.  
“I see you taught your boy _manners_.”  
“I taught him good from bad,” I scoffed. “He knows you’re a bad person. Don’t think Sean and I didn’t talk about the gang with him. I’m not going to let him or my daughter make the same mistakes I did, and I certainly won’t let either of them turn out like you. So I suggest you call your horse or whatever the hell you rode here on and get the hell away from me and my family before I shoot you myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Even if Dutch didn’t look impressed, he called for his horse. It took a moment for it to show up, but when it did he immediately hopped on top of it. I hesitantly put my gun back with a shaky sigh. He cleared his throat to get my attention. When I looked back up at him, he spoke again.

“You ain’t aged a day since the last time I saw ya,” he said. “Still as pretty as the day I met you.”  
I touched my lips. “Get out of here,” I growled.

Dutch rolled his eyes and finally rode away. I waited until he was out of my sight to release the tears I’d wanted to the whole time, but couldn’t because I needed to appear strong to his face. I crouched onto the ground, trying to catch my breath. I’d been so furious and sad -- furious because of the audacity he had to speak to me the same way he used to like we were somehow still on good terms even after all that time had passed; sad because he’d once been such a kind man but I could barely remember him being that way. Sad because he let something so great as a big family spiral out of control that left a lot of people scarred and angry and become enemies with people who had once been their good friends.

“Mama?” Siobhán babbled. “Mama.”  
“Are you okay?” Charlie asked quietly.  
“I-I will be,” I sniffled, wiping my tears away. “I was just a bit scared, is all.”  
“I can’t wait to get big so I can protect you.”

I looked at Charlie and saw he was angry, too. His eyebrows were furrowed; I’d never seen him so upset. I pulled him and Siobhán into a tight hug, kissing them both on top of their heads.

“Don’t rush to grow up, okay?” I requested. “You’ll get there. Let’s head home, alright?”  
♞♞♞

Charlie and Siobhán were sleeping upstairs in our room at the saloon. I sat downstairs at the bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey that was mostly ice and looking at Sean’s wanted poster. I’d had another chance to look it over more thoroughly, and had found a bounty amount. So he’d even lied to me that it was a dead or alive bounty. I had gone and taken the liberty of paying it off at the post office. Sadie sidled up to me, leaning on the bar.

“You look like you been through hell,” she said. “Visitin’ Hosea that bad?”  
I shrugged. “It was fine, actually. Siobhán picked out some daisies for him, we ran into Tilly, it was great. It was a few days ago already, but... Fuck, it was horrifying, Sadie.”  
“What was? Did ya almost get eaten by a gator?”  
I took a long sip of my whiskey and sighed. “We ran into Dutch.”

Sadie and I looked at each other. I was exhausted, still, from that encounter with Dutch, and she looked shocked, almost like she didn’t believe me. It wasn’t like I blamed her -- I wouldn’t believe me either. So many years, no one had heard a peep from Dutch and all of a sudden he revealed himself to me? How ridiculous. But it was the truth and I didn’t like it.

“Do whatever you want with that information,” I told her. “He’s probably long gone by now. I know you want Micah more than you want Dutch.”  
“Jesus, are you okay?” she asked.  
“Yes, but no. He knows Sean left me and I did my best to lie through my teeth.”  
“I know where Sean picks up his mail in Canada.”

I was too tired and upset to get even more upset at what she had just said to me. She suggested that she send a letter to him to tell him it was safe to come back to Blackwater. All I did was shrug.

“Don’t ya want him back?” she inquired.  
“At this point, I only want him back so he can be in Siobhán’s life,” I admitted. “She’s always preferred him over me.”  
“Are you drunk? He’s your husband.”  
“No. I’m not drunk. I promise.”  
“You ain’t had a drink in over seven years, Evie.”  
“I won’t make it a habit.”

I leaned on Sadie’s shoulder with a sigh. I was so tired, yet I was so awake at the same time. The whole drive back to Blackwater, I spent most of it looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was following us. A few people on horses rode by us and scared the hell out of me because I thought they were Dutch or perhaps even Micah. No; I was just being paranoid. Still, it was a bit of a coincidence that Dutch was in Lemoyne at the same time I had been. It wasn’t worth it to waste my thoughts on it, though, and so I sat back up, downed the last of my whiskey, and stood up.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” I mumbled. “See you tomorrow, Sadie.”  
“Uh...yeah...” Sadie replied. “Have a good night.”


	41. Chapter 41

“Mama?” Charlie said, setting down his spoon.  
“Everything okay?” I asked.  
He nodded. “I was just wondering if you could do my hair like Charles’ in that picture.”  
“It’s best that you ask him to do it. I don’t know how to braid, sweetie.”  
“When can we see him again?”  
“Whenever he’s done helping build Mister Marston’s house. Oh! You could also ask Sadie.”

Charlie continued eating his porridge while I held Siobhán’s bottle for her. She pulled away from it and began clapping and reaching. It wasn’t me she was reaching for, though, and I turned to look at the door to the saloon.

“Papa!” she giggled. “Papa, Papa!”

Charlie followed my gaze before getting up from his seat and giving Sean a rather swift kick to his shin before running back upstairs to our room. I looked back at Siobhán and placed her bottle on the bar counter. Of course Sadie went through with sending a letter to him in Canada. Well, I knew she would go through with that, but I didn’t think Sean would actually come to Blackwater. Why should he have cared? It wasn’t like he cared enough to tell me the truth. Old habits died hard and I was no stranger to that.

“Evie--” he began.  
“You didn’t have to lie to me,” I told him, picking Siobhán up. “And you didn’t have to go to such extreme measures to have to leave me. If you wanted to leave, you could have just said so.”  
“It ain’t like you would’ve under--”  
“Sean, if you were able to last eight years, it wasn’t an adjustment issue.”  
“What’s that mean?”

I gave him the side-eye and handed Siobhán to him. She didn’t sleep well again the night before and didn’t fall asleep in my arms. But the moment Sean hugged her, she passed out. Like I’d told Sadie, she had always preferred Sean over me. It wasn’t like I was surprised -- I was a daddy’s girl when I was little, too.

“What do you_ think_ it means?” I wondered.  
“You sayin’ I don’t love ya anymore?” he asked, sounding like he was taken aback.  
“How do you think it looks from my perspective? You lied to me about why you needed to leave and then refused to take your family with you; you did these..._things_...behind my back and you got Sadie involved.”  
“Hey, she got _herself_ involved.”  
“You only told me because she made you tell me. And you didn’t even tell me the truth and left because you don’t love me anymore. The least you could have done was told me what you wanted and taken Siobhán with you. If you wanted a divorce, I would have given it to you. You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t find out.”  
“I didn’t have to come back, Evie.”  
“Then why did you?”

It would have been better if he really did just stay away and only sent a letter to me. But he came back only for Siobhán. If he did still love me, it certainly wasn’t enough to return to me. I didn’t want to get into an argument with him, at least not around our baby. There didn’t need to be a reason for him to fall out of love with me, but maybe it could have been because of my nightmares, my crying and screaming in my sleep, or the fact I still didn’t trust him completely. Then again...

“Ya didn’t have to marry me, y’know,” Sean said. “I know who you wanted to instead.”  
“If you weren’t sure of my feelings, you didn’t have to ask me to marry you,” I retorted. “Don’t think I didn’t love you, because I _did_ and I still do.”  
“Don’t change that the person you wanted to marry was Charles.”  
“You don’t get to be mad at me about Charles when you left me just because you couldn’t tell me the truth, Sean MacGuire!”  
“Ain’t you forgettin’ that _he_ left you, too?”

Not even ten minutes he was in the saloon with me and we were beginning to yell at each other. Some things really never changed. I stepped back slightly, inhaling sharply. I didn’t want to wake Siobhán up, but if things persisted one of us was going to be dealing with a screaming and crying baby.

“He left because he had to help his people,” I shot back. “If he knew I was with child, he would have come back for me, but he couldn’t!”  
“How’d ya know that?” Sean muttered.  
“Because Sadie insisted and insisted and wouldn’t stop insisting I go to John’s ranch!”

Now he really looked taken aback. Sadie must have not told him that Charles was in Blackwater, too. She probably didn’t think he was going to come down to find me, either. I didn’t purposely run to Charles like I had always done back when the gang was together, but it probably felt like that to Sean, and that’s certainly what it sounded like. It was a convenience to marry Sean, but if I’d known Charles was going to come back or try to find me, then I would have said “no”. I wouldn’t have even allowed him to sleep in the same bed, much less same bedroom, as me. I was sure by now he even knew that I didn’t want Siobhán. I had her only because I knew Sean wanted to care for his own child and not some other man’s.

“Even if you don’t love me anymore, it was cruel to leave me alone with two children and no help,” I snapped. “I’m only so lucky Sadie came to the house when she did.”  
“I dunno how to take care of a kid,” Sean admitted.  
“And you think I do? It’s a goddamn miracle my children are still alive.”  
“Evie...d’ya want that thing?”  
“What thing? A divorce? If you don’t love me anymore, of course I do. I don’t want you to be stuck with me and be unable to marry some other woman you might actually love.”  
“It ain’t that I don’t love you. I do, but it ain’t comfortable livin’ how ya do.”  
“Mister Matthews once told me gang life doesn’t really leave you even if you try to leave it. But I’ve fought against wanting to run away and go back to it because I have children to take care of. You have one, too.”  
Sadie walked through the saloon doors next. “Hell-oh, shit.”  
I ignored her. “Do you want one or not?”

Sean didn’t answer me right away. It looked like he was thinking. I should have just suggested a divorce before he left, but I completely forgot that such a thing existed. Growing up religious, it wasn’t talked about at all. I had only ever heard about it in passing. So even though Sean was wanting to leave, I thought we were stuck together forever no matter where either of us were. He probably didn’t even know that it was an option, either -- and besides, it used to be that only the very rich knew about it and were able to access it.

“You wanna marry Charles?” Sean asked.  
“This isn’t about him, Sean,” I told him. “This is about you and I, and I asked you a valid question.”  
“I’ll give ya one, then.”  
“What the hell did I walk into, huh?” Sadie asked.  
“Evie wants a divorce. Whatever that means.”  
“It means we go to the courthouse when it opens tomorrow morning and sign papers, and I get Locke back as my last name,” I explained with a sigh.  
“Wha-- Hey, ain’t you actin’ a bit, you know, impulsive?” Sadie said.  
“Why insist so much that I go to the ranch and subsequently run into Charles like you wanted me to do without telling me and then telling me not to get a divorce from someone who doesn’t want to be with me? Whether Charles wants to marry me or not doesn’t matter in this situation. Dutch knows you left, anyway, Sean, so--”  
“What the fuck didja just say?” Sean interrupted.

Sadie frowned and I felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. I hadn’t meant to mention Dutch; it had just slipped out. I should have shut up and quit while I was ahead. It wasn’t like Sean could do anything about it, anyway; wherever the hell Dutch was, he was long gone from Lemoyne already. That was already a couple weeks ago. He could have been on the complete other side of the country by now, or in Mexico, or in Canada, or on the ocean to a completely different continent altogether.

“Evie--” Sean started again.  
“The kids and I went down to Lemoyne to go to Mister Matthews’ grave,” I admitted quietly. “Dutch just so happened to be there. He didn’t do anything; just...talked. Okay? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m done arguing, Sean.”  
“Y’know I don’t regret marryin’ you, right?”

I shrugged.

“I know that you know that I still think ya regret Rho--” he began.  
“Shut up,” I quickly snapped. “No, I don’t. I’ve no idea why you think I regret saving your life, but I don’t. Sadie, could you please check on Charlie? He’s in our room.”

Sadie nodded and ran upstairs, leaving Sean and I alone with Siobhán.

“Maybe back then when I did save you in Rhodes, my motives were selfish,” I said. “Maybe I didn’t want the last thing for you to hear me say was that I hated you. I didn’t hate you and I still don’t hate you. Being mad at you doesn’t mean that I do. I’m sorry that you didn’t get what you wanted out of marrying me, whether it be more kids or for you to be the one I love more than Charles. I’ve always loved you, and you can believe me or not. When everything is said and done, I don’t regret anything you and I ever did together. But...tomorrow when the papers are signed, I want you to take Siobhán with you.”  
“What?” Sean’s voice came out sounding confused.  
“I said what I said. If you’re going to leave me, at least take the baby who loves you.”  
“She loves you, too.”  
“She doesn’t prefer me. Siobhán hasn’t slept properly in weeks and she doesn’t fall asleep in my arms.”  
“Alright, but who says I’m leavin’ and goin’ back to Canada, eh? If I didn’t wanna come back, then I woulda stayed there.”  
“But you did want to leave the kids--” I sighed, frustrated, “--Siobhán and I.”  
“Sadie’s convincin’.”

Sadie could either be convincing from the get go or she could have kept sending letters and pestering to come to Blackwater. It didn’t matter, though. If he wanted to leave Blackwater or not and return to Canada or not was up to him and I wasn’t going to stop him. I’d even thought long and hard about letting Siobhán go should Sean ever return. It stung a little, but not enough to make me regret the decision. Was that how Bonnie felt when she left me with my father? Well, she’d told me she tried to love me, but she just couldn’t. I did love Siobhán, just not enough. As much as I tried to love both her and Charlie equally, it was evident that it was just impossible. I was always going to love Charlie more than Siobhán. She would never get the same amount of attention as he did or the same amount of pampering or coddling. If it weren’t for Sean wanting us to try for our own child, how long would we have lasted? If he hadn’t suggested so, would I eventually have left? Maybe if he left in that particular scenario, it wouldn’t have been so stressful. I’d considered asking Sadie if she wanted to adopt Siobhán as her own, but I knew that she would shut me down immediately before I could even get the whole sentence out.

“Whatever,” I mumbled.  
“It ain’t whatever, Evie,” Sean snapped. “Siobhán ain’t only mine. Jesus, Sadie said you’d prob’ly give her to someone else. I came back so you wouldn’t do somethin’ you’d regret.”  
“I can’t take care of her how I take care of Charlie.”  
“Yeah; wonder why.”  
“Don’t take a sarcastic tone with me, Sean MacGuire.”  
“Whatever you say, Mrs MacGuire.”  
♞♞♞

It was taking forever to get the paperwork sorted that Sean and I needed to sign. Siobhán was sleeping soundly in her pram and Charlie was fidgeting next to me in his chair. I was becoming restless myself. How much longer did we have to wait? All of this just to sign some papers? Did they think the longer they kept us waiting that we’d change our minds and go back to being a loving married couple? Well, we still loved each other, it was just the matter that I didn’t want either of us to be stuck and it was better not being together.

“I’m hungry,” Charlie complained.

According to the clerk, neither Sean nor I were allowed to leave the courthouse, otherwise our request for divorce would be immediately denied without the option to appeal. I couldn’t let Charlie go back to the saloon on his own to get food -- who knew how many drunk people were in there at that time of day? I sighed, looking at the clerk’s desk and then at Charlie. After a moment of contemplating, I reached into my coin purse and took out some money for him.

“Head over to the shop and get something, okay?” I said, handing it to him. “You go right there and immediately come back.”  
“Thank you, Mama,” Charlie replied.

My stomach was in knots as I watched him run out of the courthouse. It was the first time I let him go off on his own. The shop wasn’t too far -- just less than a minute away. I kept telling myself that he would be okay for a moment on his own. My nerves got the better of me, though. I got up to watch for him from the door of the courthouse. They couldn’t say anything about it because I was still inside. But it was right when I arrived at the door that the clerk had the papers ready. Upon approaching the desk, I saw that there were pages and pages.

“_Jesus_,” Sean muttered.

We were told where to sign and where to read carefully. As I was beginning to sign, I heard Charlie screaming. It wasn’t a cheerful screaming, but rather a scared screaming. Without thinking, I took off out of the courthouse. In the middle of the street, there was a small group of men in a circle -- Charlie’s screaming was coming from there. From the way the men were moving, I could tell that they were kicking him. Sprinting over to the circle, I did my best to get into the centre of it to get Charlie out of harm’s way. When I had no luck, I rolled my dress sleeves up and jabbed my elbows into the men. This luckily worked and allowed me to get in, but I still had to throw myself on top of my son to get everyone to stop kicking him. Charlie was wailing and bleeding. Luckily nothing seemed to be broken, at least not that I could immediately see or feel.

“Outta the way, lady!” one of the men snapped.  
“Yeah, we’re just tryin’ to show this little nig--” another began.  
I looked up at them, glowering. “You watch what you call my _son_, you son of a whore!” I barked.  
“Oh, shit,” the first man said, sounding and appearing shocked. “If we knew his mother was a white lady, we wouldn’t have--”  
“You wouldn’t have what? Beat up a defenceless child? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Soon enough, most of the circle had dispersed. I got back to my feet before helping Charlie to his. Without a single word, I took my gun out of my holster and shot both the men in the knee. They writhed in pain on the ground.

“You’re lucky those weren’t in your heads,” I growled.  
“Mama,” Charlie sobbed.  
“On second thought...”

I had Charlie turn around and cover his ears, before shooting both the men right between the eyes. Wrapping an arm around him, we both headed toward the doctor’s office. I didn’t care that Sean and I would have to wait until the next day, or even the next week, or next month, maybe next year, to get all those papers signed. Charlie was so much more important than a divorce. The doctor was able to confirm that there were no broken bones, but my boy was going to have bruises for a week or two, some trouble sleeping, and maybe even a temporary scar or two on his face.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” he sniffled as we left the doctor.  
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I quickly replied, kneeling down to his eye level. “Those men were the ones who were wrong.”  
“It-It’s because I’m different, isn’t it?”  
“Most of the world is unkind to those it sees different. They can’t hurt the big ones, so they try to hurt the little ones.”

Charlie wrapped his arms around me tightly, which only made me hug him back. I let him out of my sight for the first time and adults who should have known better decided it would be wise to hurt him. He was just a little boy, for God’s sake. He was so, so lucky that he came away with some bumps and bruises. If I’d not been fast enough or if I’d not cared enough, he could have wound up dead. I hugged him tighter. Never again would I let him out of my sight.

“Thank you for being my mommy,” he said quietly.  
“Shit, what happened here?” Sadie asked, looking at the men’s bodies before looking over at us. “Oh. Well, good riddance, then. You okay?”  
“Why don’t people like different people, Aunt Sadie?”  
“That’s, ah... I dunno, hon.”

Charlie, Sadie, and I made our way back to the courthouse, where the clerk really didn’t look happy.

“I was just telling your husband here that you’re going to have to wait another month,” he told me.  
“And I was just tellin’ him that ain’t gonna sit right,” Sean said.  
“It’s fine, Sean,” I sighed.

Sean looked down at Charlie; he must have connected the dots himself, because the next moment I knew he had his gun pointed at the clerk.

“That’s not necessary!” I snapped at him.  
“You didn’t leave just to leave,” he replied, putting the gun away. “Do I gotta pull it back out or can we sign whatever the fuck needs to be signed?”

With shaking hands, the clerk placed the papers back on the desk and handed both of us pens. Charlie held onto my dress tightly as I signed everything and read everything. I just wanted to get him back to the hotel so he could get some food and rest. With any luck, he could actually sleep peacefully. Finally, once everything was signed and read, the clerk stamped everything to be sent to Washington and Arkansas, and we were able to leave the courthouse. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as we stepped out onto the street.

“Alright?” Sean wondered. “Shakin’ like a leaf.”  
“I just need to relax,” I admitted. “Charlie...”  
“What about you?”  
“I-I was so scared...” Charlie sniffled.  
“Don’t look like they’ll be able to hurt ya anymore.”  
“Come on, honey, let’s get you something to eat,” I said, leading Charlie back to the saloon with Sadie trailing behind us.

Sean and Siobhán were staying elsewhere. Sadie thought it would be best if we were separated, especially now that I really did need to keep all my attention on Charlie. If he needed anything or wanted anything, needed help, I had to be there for him. I didn’t know how he would react if he woke up and I wasn’t there or if he had an incredibly bad headache and couldn’t handle it on his own. Those men were the reason why I didn’t ever want to let Charlie out of my sight. He’d not been beat up or hurt since the schoolhouse. How stupid of me to think he would be able to walk around freely, even if it was just across the street? Sadie made sure to talk to the sheriff so I wouldn’t get in trouble for what I did. I was within reason for doing what I did.

“Want me to get Charles?” Sadie asked when she came back to the saloon.  
“No,” I replied with a sigh. “No, I’ll...send a telegram in a while, or...I don’t know...”  
“I can watch him so you can head to the ranch.”  
“I’m not leaving Charlie.”  
“Everythin’ that’s goin’ on can’t be good for ya, Evie.”  
“It’s not the worst thing I’ve gone through.”

I dragged the chair at the desk over to the bed where Charlie was passed out. The doctor had given him a little morphine for the pain. Anybody could hurt me all they wanted, but if they so much as laid a hand on him would suffer the consequences. There were bad people everywhere; there was no stopping it, but I wanted to protect him as best I could. I didn’t want him to experience anything as bad as the things I had.

“Sean gonna stay in Blackwater?” Sadie asked.  
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “He can do what he wants.”  
“You sure you ain’t gonna regret letting him keep Siobhán?”  
“Why would I want to keep a baby I didn’t even want? I don’t love her enough.”  
“You’re being cruel.”  
“What the hell is crueller, Sadie?” I looked up at her. “Keeping a baby I didn’t want and don’t love enough or letting her father who loves her more than I do have her?”  
“It don’t matter which one is worse.”  
“Maybe Javier was right back then.”  
“Huh?”  
“I should learn to keep my legs shut.”  
“That ain’t what I’m--”  
“It doesn’t matter.”  
“Evie, you really think Sean is gonna be able to settle down with a baby on his own? Couldn’t even settle down in the eight years y’all were married. He prob’ly left Siobhán with you to begin with because he knew that his ‘lifestyle’ would put her in harm’s way. We ain’t in a gang anymore, Evangeline; if Sean were to get killed there would be no one else to care for your daughter. She’d be sent to an orphanage and who knows what kinda family would take her? People prefer blonde babies. Didja ever think of all that?”


	42. Chapter 42

Charlie kept tugging on the skirt of my dress while I was trying to put my hair up. I didn’t know what he was so impatient about. Still, the moment I managed to clip my hairpiece into place I turned and looked down at him.

“Feeling okay?” I wondered.  
“Yes, Mama,” he replied. “I was just wondering if we could go to church?”

I blinked at him. Church? He wanted to go to church? I’d never heard him even mention wanting to go before. The crosses Cornelius had put up in our house in Arkansas had remained -- I hadn’t had the heart to take them down since they were another piece of him. Charlie knew that his grandfather was rather pious, but never did he ask to go to church. Well, maybe now he was merely curious. He was a young boy, a child, and I couldn’t fault him for being curious. Growing up, I’d always expected going to church since my father took me every Sunday anyway. Charlie, Siobhán, Sean, and I, along with Mary Beth, Kieran and Lenny -- when they still lived with us -- were the only ones in our town to not go to church.

“I could take you, yes,” I said. “Have you wanted to go this whole time?”  
“Not really,” he admitted, looking embarrassed. “I just wanna see what it’s like and I wanna ask God to make you happy.”

There was nothing I could say to that statement of his. Did he really think I was unhappy? Granted, I must have looked angry all the time or sad because of the things that had happened in the past and the things that happened to Charlie. That didn’t mean I wasn’t happy, though. I ruffled his hair before standing. If he wanted to go to church, then I was going to take him, but he had to wear nicer clothing than what he usually wore. I was prepared for the dirty looks I would receive -- going to church didn’t mean that the people there were automatically good people. I would hope, at least, they would leave Charlie alone, seeing that he was brought by a white woman.

“Here,” I murmured, handing him a nicer looking shirt. “Put this on and tuck it in.”  
“Will Sean let us bring Siobhán?” he asked.  
“Probably not. Besides, babies get bored easily in church.”  
“Are you really letting him keep her?”  
“I’m not letting him do anything. I told him to take care of her and that’s what he’s doing.”

Charlie finished tucking his shirt in and smoothed the collar out. He rocked back and forth on his feet a few times while I got my parasol out of the closet. People were even more less likely to try and harm Charlie, or at least speak horrible things to him, if I looked like an even richer woman. Looking in the mirror, I saw that I looked just like how I did when I still lived with Cornelius. After everything that happened over the years, I didn’t recognize myself. Still, I adjusted my hat before turning back to Charlie.

“You look pretty, Mama,” he said.  
“Thank you, baby.” I gripped my parasol with a shaky sigh. “Let’s go.”

We weren’t even all the way down the steps yet before some of the men became distracted by what I looked like. The barman was pouring whiskey for someone and he just kept pouring it, even when the glass was overflowing. It wasn’t until Charlie told him he was making a mess that he noticed and stopped. I wasn’t even going to bother with the men who tripped over each other, just staring at me.

“Why are they doing that?” Charlie mumbled.  
“Why are they doing what?” I opened the saloon’s doors to allow him to go out first. “Looking at me or being fools?”  
“Staring at you. Isn’t that bad manners?”  
“Every now and then men, and sometimes women, forget their manners when they see someone good looking.”

Charlie nodded as if he understood and held my hand as we made our way over to the church. The sign out front was worn, though it was painted over to make it seem as if it wasn’t so old. In thick black paint, it read who the priest was and I could swear I felt my heart drop. It wasn’t Father O’Malley, but rather Declan. Of course it wasn’t going to be Father O’Malley; he was still the priest back home. Well, if we sat in the back, with any luck he wouldn’t be able to recognize me. Inside we sat down at the very back in the corner. The church wasn’t completely full yet, but there was enough people to hide behind. Declan wasn’t at the front yet, either, so that helped. There was better things to do for two hours than sit in a hot, crowded church, but it was what Charlie wanted. I took my fan out and opened it with a sigh.

Looking around the church, I saw that it was in slight disrepair; not as bad as the sign out front, but it could definitely use some new windows, new paint, and possibly even a new statue. I looked in my purse. Well, if anyone dared try to say that Charlie wasn’t allowed to be in the upcoming sermon, I could easily pull out enough of the money from my purse to get them to shut up and mind their own business, lest they get no donations whatsoever out of the rich woman. Just as I was thinking about people minding their own business...

“Mama, is that Jesus?” Charlie asked excitedly, which made some women look over.  
“Have you never seen a curious little boy before?” I snapped with a slight glare. “Go back to talking about your tea party, ladies.” With a shake of my head, I looked down at him. “Yes, darling, that is Jesus.”

A few moments later, like I had predicted, a woman had gone and retrieved one of the nuns. I rolled my eyes and stood up to go to the opening of the aisle. Charlie was busy looking at the stained glass window we were sitting next to.

“Good morning,” I said as nicely as I could.  
“That child cannot be in here,” the nun told me.  
“Why is that, exactly?”

I knew the answer; I just wanted the nun or the other lady to say it so I had an excuse to be snarky. Both of them did appear to be slightly uncomfortable in my presence. That happened all the time when I still lived with Cornelius; it came with the appearance of being rich.

“The Negro sermon does not begin until eleven--” the nun began.  
“How much do you need to repair this place?” I wondered, closing my fan and tapping the palm of my hand with the top of it. “It looks horribly rundown.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“I’m saying that your congregation looks like it could use some...monetary help. Yes? The thing is, though, if I leave with my son, you lose that help. Now, surely you wouldn’t agree with a mother leaving her child at home alone with no one to watch him?”  
“That’s your son?” the other woman spluttered.  
“Last I checked, I _did_ push him out of my vagina.”  
“My word...”  
“So what will it be, Sister? Do I stay with my son and you get the donation that your church so desperately needs or do I leave with him and your church continues to fall into shambles another day? Hm?”

Neither the nun nor the other lady were able to say anything. I gave them a sickly sweet smile.

“That’s what I thought.” I waved them off and returned to Charlie’s side.  
“Are you okay, Mama?” he asked with a sad frown.  
“Yes. Nothing to worry about.”

It wasn’t much longer until the church was full of people. The only reason other people sat in the same aisle as we did was because Charlie was at the window and I was almost blocking him from everyone else. Just before Declan came out, I took my needlepoint out of my purse and occupied myself with that. I was there for Charlie, not to listen to Declan spew ridiculous idealizations and shunning others. At one point, I nonchalantly looked up, which caused Declan, who was walking to the other side of the room, to notice me and stop talking for a moment. I shook my head and went back to my needlepoint.  
♞♞♞

“Tessa,” Declan said as he approached me after the service was done.  
“Can I help you with something?” I asked.  
“Mama...?” Charlie asked, hiding behind me. “How does he know your name?”  
“We knew each other a long time ago for a very short time.”  
“I heard you so generously donated enough to fix the church,” Declan explained. “Have you let the Lord back into your heart, then?”  
“Absolutely...not. My son wanted to come to church and my donation was the only way your Sister was going to allow Charlie to sit in.”  
“Oh. Your...son. So I’m assuming that he’s that Redskin’s child?”

I scoffed at him and turned to lead Charlie out of the church, but Declan grabbed my shoulder to keep me from doing so.

“Don’t touch my mama!” Charlie shouted.  
“Why does it matter to you?” I snapped at Declan. “If you were going to apologize for giving me a week long headache all those years ago, you would have already done it. Touch me again and see what happens. Don’t think that just because we’re in a church that I won’t punch you out.”  
“All these years haven’t fixed your hostility, I see.”  
“I could say the same about your holier-than-thou attitude. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get my son some lunch.”

As I was opening the door, Declan decided it would be a good time to speak up again, like he didn’t believe my threat. Did he really think I was bluffing? After everything I had gone through, why would I bluff about punching him out?

“Maybe next week I’ll have a sermon about how Redskins are savages and why nigger-lovers are going straight to hell,” he said.

Charlie looked up at me as I stopped walking and I looked down at him. After a moment, we both turned back to Declan. He had a grin on his face; it was almost unbelievable. Well, if he didn’t believe me, I’d just have to make him realize I was serious. I stormed over to him and shoved him back, which got rid of that shit-eating grin.

“Fucking _prick_!” I shouted.  
“Get him, Mama!” Charlie exclaimed excitedly.  
“Who the hell do you think you are?! You think that just because you’re a priest now you’re untouchable?!”  
“Tess--” Declan began.  
“It’s Evangeline!” I punched him in the throat, which knocked him to the ground. “No one calls me ‘Tessa’ except for my daddy! You don’t get to talk like that just because you’re a priest! Just who the hell do you think you are, huh?! I’ve dealt with worse people than you, you snarky son of a bitch!” I kicked him in the face once and then turned back to Charlie, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go, honey. Come anywhere near my son, my daughter, or myself and I’ll do worse!”

As the door slammed shut behind us, I thought of one last thing to say. Still holding onto Charlie’s hand, I reopened the door.

“And you better make doubly sure that you stay the fuck away from Charles and Sean!” I demanded.

I took Charlie back to the hotel so we could get changed into our everyday clothes. He wasn’t even hungry, either; I’d just used that as an excuse to get out of the church faster.

“Can we go to Mister Marston’s ranch now?” he asked as I scrubbed the makeup off my face.  
“Right after I’m done this,” I replied. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”  
“I don’t think I like church...”  
“There are some nice priests out there. Maybe we can meet one one day. I know of one, but he’s all the way in New York.”

I dried my face off with a sigh.

“I’m okay, Mama, but...are you?” Charlie whispered.  
“I will be. Now, then, let’s go to the ranch.”

We retrieved Maple from the stables and then headed in the direction of Beecher’s Hope. From the clouds and the smell in the air, it looked and felt like it was going to begin raining soon. The trail was also too quiet for my liking. Ordinarily there would be at least a couple of people that we would pass, but this time was different. It was even more obvious when Maple began acting up; she hadn’t behaved the way she was since when Dutch took me to the Blackwater camp that first time. I knew why she was doing it, but I couldn’t see the Skinner Brothers. I looked around as calmly as I could so as not to scare Charlie. However, he ended up screaming out of fright when an arrow came out of nowhere and barely missed Maple’s side. The arrow luckily got lodged in the dirt of the trail.

I hopped down from Maple and helped Charlie get off, grabbed my crossbow and my gun, and smacked Maple to get her to run off. First Declan and now the Skinner Brothers? What a wonderful day it was turning out to be. I hid Charlie behind a boulder, but before I could tell him to stay put an arrow shot right through my shoulder.

“Ow, fucking hell, fuck!” I snapped.  
“Mama!” Charlie cried, moving to get up.  
“Don’t you move! Just...stay there, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I snapped the end of the arrow and then pulled the head of it out of my shoulder. I did my best not to scream as I did so. I was absolutely _furious_. How dare those sons of whores attack me when I had my child with me? I got up and looked around. They had to come out of the woodwork sooner or later, and it appeared to be sooner. There weren’t a lot of them, but there was enough for me to feel outnumbered. But I was seething with rage and so I shot one of them through the head to make them realize I meant business and that they chose the wrong woman to mess with. I was just one woman, though, against five men... Well, four.

I dove behind another boulder and only peeked out to shoot my gun or my crossbow. If I were out in the open, I would have been a much better shot. But their shots were even better than mine and I had to be careful about peeking out. I looked over at Charlie, who was staying down and not moving like I told him to. If I didn’t get rid of these men soon, they were going to discover where I’d hidden him. I managed to shoot another Skinner in the heart.

“It’s one woman and a kid!” one of them shouted.  
“You picked a really bad day to mess with me!” I yelled at them.

Each time I tried to peek out, they shot at me. I was luckily able to duck back down before I could get hit, but it wasn’t long until there was only one man left. Of course, when I looked back over the boulder, I couldn’t see him. That didn’t seem right. Why would he wait until everyone else was dead to run away? I exhaled sharply, my shoulder beginning to ache.

“Mama, look out!” Charlie shrieked.

I looked behind me, but didn’t have enough time to react. The last Skinner Brother tackled me onto my back, causing me to involuntarily toss my gun and crossbow away from me. He had his hands wrapped around my throat, trying to choke me. I felt panicked, but not because he was going to kill me or because Charlie was helpless. It was because I felt helpless and afraid and horribly vulnerable; the memories of the cabin were flooding my mind and I could barely think straight. I scratched at his hands as hard as I could as I sobbed and begged and pleaded.

“Mama!” Charlie cried.

Breathing heavily, I reached beneath my dress for my knife. Just before I could stab the Skinner Brother, he grabbed the hand that I was holding my knife with and turned it back toward me. With my other hand, I tried to claw at his face, but he was able to grab his own knife and stab my hand and have it pinned to the grass. I cried out in pain and continued to sob, but then screamed when he stabbed me with my own knife. It went right through my side, just missing any organs, and into the grass. I was in so much pain, then, that I could barely even move or think. Finally, the Skinner Brother got off of me and began to walk over to Charlie.

“Ma...” he began to scream. “_Mama_!”

I was barely able to move my head to look at what was happening, but as soon as I saw that the Skinner was holding another knife over Charlie, I panicked again. Gathering whatever strength I had left, I pulled the knife out of my side as quietly as I could and then pulled the knife out of my hand. Picking up my knife, I ran at the Skinner Brother, screaming as loud as I could to get his attention. It seemed like he hadn’t expected me to be able to even get off the ground, much less charge at him, because I was able to knock him to the ground. His knife flew out of his hand and away from him.

“Stay away from my son!” I barked, stabbing him in the chest repeatedly.

Once I was sure he was dead, I inhaled sharply. Charlie hugged me loosely, but the moment was cut short. I could hear more Skinner Brothers coming from the other side of the trail. There was a forest that we could hide in until it was safe. I quickly picked up my crossbow and gun, and ran with Charlie into the forest. It began to rain heavily as we went deeper; we only managed to stop until I was sure we were safe. I got down onto my knees and took Charlie’s face in my hands.

“Are you okay?” I asked with a sniffle.  
“Y-Yes,” he stammered. “But-But I was so scared...”  
“It’s going to be okay, baby.”  
“Mama, you’re bleeding a lot.”  
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine... We’ll just...wait a couple hours and then head to the ranch.”

The rain didn’t let up. By the time I deemed it to be okay to head back onto the trail, it had been raining for three hours. It was coming down heavy, that was for sure. I’d covered Charlie with my coat to keep him as dry as possible; being in a forest hadn’t made us very wet, but I was soaked before I even brought my thumb and index finger up to my lips to call for Maple. I was shaking from how cold I was.

“Mama, you’re still bleeding!” Charlie gasped.  
“Ssh, I’ll be okay,” I assured him.

If I was going to die or pass out from blood loss, I wanted him to get to Charles first. Then at least he wouldn’t be stuck in the middle of nowhere. I helped him up onto Maple’s saddle. With a deep breath, I jumped up myself. I groaned as I grabbed onto Maple’s reins. Maple ran as fast as she could, given the weather. We were luckily not too far from Beecher’s Hope on horseback and we got there in no time. I hopped off with a whimper before helping Charlie down. Looking up at John’s home, I led him toward the front door. I knocked as hard as I could, and it wasn’t but a few seconds until Charles and John came to the door.

“Evie?” John asked, appearing to be shocked.  
“That ain’t your blood, is it?” Charles asked. “You okay?”  
“Nice house you got,” I said, before falling forward and passing out.

I just as soon woke up, but I could tell it was much later in the day. Someone had wrapped the hand that had been stabbed and my side, and patched up my shoulder. I looked around; it appeared that I was in a bed in a decently sized room. If I stood up and left the room, Charles would probably just tell me it’d be better I stayed laying down. In any case, I adjusted myself so I was at least sitting up.

“Ow, shit!” I snapped.  
Charles came into the room a moment later and sat on the edge of the bed. “You feelin’ okay?”  
“I’m in a lot of pain. How’s Charlie?”  
“Scared.”  
I looked down at my hands. “A lot happened today. He wanted to go to church, so I took him. Turns out Declan is the priest there and he said some very bad things in front of Charlie.” With a sigh, I looked back at Charles. “He wanted to come here. I suppose he wanted to see you.”  
“Skinners ambush you?”  
“Yes. I know I said he wanted to see you, but I’ve been wanting to see you, too.”  
“You don’t gotta explain to me. It was a bad day. John said you can stay here again, ‘specially how you showed up today.”  
“I might just take that offer, at least until I’m better.”  
“You prob’ly need some good news. I’ll be back.”

Charles wasn’t gone for that long; maybe a few minutes or so. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand. I looked at him curiously as he sat back down and handed the paper to me. It was folded, but upon opening it I recognized the handwriting as Cornelius’. I read it slowly.

_My darling <strike>Tess</strike> Evangeline,_  
_I suppose by now I am long gone; either living by my lonesome in the family home or dead. Whichever it is, I wanted to write you this letter to the future you. I’ve apologized many times to you for scolding you or being cross with you, and not agreeing with the choices you make or have made. But I would just like to say that I am sorry once more. Bad things happen all the time in the world and you unfortunately have suffered some of the worst things possible. I wish I could have done better by you, but it is too late, isn’t it? As of this writing, you are with that Sean MacGuire. However, I do have a sneaking suspicion that, by the time you’re reading this, you will be with someone else._  
_I see the way Mister Smith looks at you; it is the way I once looked at your mother. I especially see the way he treats you and talks to you and about you. I’ve also seen how you look at him and how much you trust him. Being in the camp with everyone has truly opened my eyes, Evangeline. It shouldn’t matter what someone looks like or what they sound like; love is love. I’ll be giving this letter to Mister Smith for safekeeping, so when -- not if -- the time comes, you will know that you have my full approval, and I love you no matter who you choose to marry. You’re my daughter, and therefore I should love you no matter what. Live a good life, my darling._  
_Your loving father,_  
_Cornelius_

“Oh...” I mumbled. “This makes me feel happy.”  
“Sadie told John about you and Sean,” Charles mentioned.  
“It’s what was best.”  
“Your father gave me this, too.”

Charles showed me the ring that was laying in his palm. I recognized it right away.

“That... That’s Grandmother’s ring,” I stammered.  
“We don’t gotta get married,” he said, putting it back in his pocket. “If you’re fine just--”  
“I wanna get married to you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. It’s just that I never knew if you wanted to marry me, Charles. Having a future with someone doesn’t have to mean ‘marriage’, right?”  
“I guess not. I prob’ly would’ve married you back then if things wasn’t so bad.”  
I stared at him for a moment before tearing up. “You better not be playing with me.”  
“You know I ain’t one for jokes.”

Charlie wandered into the room to see if I was okay. He climbed onto the bed next to me and hugged me tightly. I winced, but didn’t make a sound. I didn’t want to worry or scare him anymore than he already felt. He didn’t stay for long; he’d only wanted to give me a hug, and so he retreated back to wherever he’d come from. Charles closed the door behind him with a sigh.

“He told me what Declan said,” he admitted.  
“I know I should have forgotten about the church as soon as I saw Declan’s name on the sign, but Charlie wanted to go,” I explained. “We tried leaving fast, but he was faster.”  
“Why did he want to go? You didn’t go back to church after all that back then, did you?”  
“No, of course not. He said he wanted to ask God to make me happy.”

Charles didn’t say anything to that immediately. All he could do was look at me and I back at him. I was happy but, then again, everyone could always be happier. I didn’t mean to look angry and sad all the time, either, especially not in front of my children. When Charles still remained quiet, I shrugged. There really wasn’t anything to say to what I’d mentioned.

“I think maybe he blames himself,” I mumbled.  
“It ain’t his fault, though,” Charles replied. “I told him that, too. Not yours or mine, either.”  
I leaned forward. “Everything that’s happened because people refuse to understand I’ve prepared for. But preparing is completely different from experiencing it. I’m happy that he’s here than with someone who doesn’t care about him.”  
“You know he’s not gonna have an easy time. Least you’re there to protect him.”  
“Did Sadie tell you what happened at the courthouse?”  
“She didn’t have to. Charlie just told me himself. I probably would’ve done the same thing to those guys.”

I grabbed one of his hands in mine. If I’d waited any longer, Charlie could have been hurt even worse than he was, or actually been killed. The gang had been so open and welcoming to Charles, Lenny, and Tilly -- except for Micah, obviously -- that it was sometimes easy to forget what most people really thought of those of darker skin. It had just become worse again for Charlie after leaving Arkansas. He’d become his happy self again after I pulled him out of that schoolhouse and he was becoming sad and scared again because of all that was happening in Blackwater.

“I don’t care if I’m never happy again as long as he’s always happy,” I admitted. “He would disagree, but...”  
“So would I, Evie,” Charles said.  
“Could you do something for me? You can say ‘no’ if you don’t want to.”  
“What is it?”  
“Can you take Charlie camping? He’s been wanting to go and I-I’m sure he would like to spend some time with you.”

Charles didn’t say anything, at least not right away. Any other time Charlie had been around him, he’d at least had someone else there with him. As much as it would hurt Charlie if Charles said he didn’t want to spend time with him, I didn’t want to push anything. It was clear to me that my son wanted to get to know his father. I just didn’t want anyone to be uncomfortable.

“I guess I can take him,” Charles said quietly. “You said he likes to fish, right?”  
“He does,” I sighed. “Really, though, if you don’t want to--”  
“Evie, I don’t mind. You need a break and I reckon this is a fine way to get to know him. Anythin’ else I should know about him?”  
“Uh... Uh... He likes animals... Best not kill anything other than a fish in front of him. He has no problem eating a deer that’s been shot, but if he sees... Well... I really don’t want you to find out. Unless a bear is going to attack you two, I don’t recommend it.”


	43. Chapter 43

“Heard ya had a rough night,” Charles mentioned as he closed the door behind him.  
“If waking up screaming in the middle of the night is ‘rough’, then sure,” I mumbled. “How was camping?”  
“Charlie caught enough fish that would’ve fed the whole camp. Talked the whole time.”  
“He’s a talker once he gets comfortable. Did you sleep okay?”  
“We slept fine.”  
“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

Charles sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Well, maybe there was no ‘but’ coming. I knew my boy well enough that Charles woke up to Charlie cuddling him. I didn’t necessarily think that it was bad, especially since no one could exactly control what they do when they’re asleep. He cuddled everyone he was comfortable with when sleeping. I knew he got that from me. Maybe I should have warned Charles about the cuddling; it must have just slipped my mind.

“How much did you tell him about us?” Charles wondered.  
“You and I ‘us’ or the gang ‘us’?” I replied. “Sean and I talked a lot about the gang together, but I don’t know what he talked to Charlie about on his own. You were mentioned like everyone else, but we -- at least I -- never named...er...names. The only people’s names that Charlie knows are that of everyone who lived or visited with us or were introduced to him recently.”  
“He still has a lot of questions.”  
“I taught him that curiosity isn’t a bad thing. If he upset you--”  
“He didn’t.”

I should have told Charlie about who his real father was sooner. But if I had told him sooner, would he have begged and pleaded that we go find Charles on our own? Who knew what that entailed? If he really was upset about it, he wasn’t showing it. He had a good reason to be angry or at least a bit sad that I didn’t talk to him about it before he asked. A lot of the time back in Arkansas, I would catch him looking at other families whose skin matched each other. I didn’t think he knew that I saw that. Maybe I thought that loving him was enough to make him forget that he was “different” from his sister, Sean, and myself.

“Charlie said that stories ain’t complete without names,” Charles explained. “You never told him names, but Sean did.”  
I let out a huff. “God dammit, Sean... I told him not to do that.”  
“Evie...”  
“Are you mad at me?”  
“I know why you wouldn’t tell him names. I know why you wouldn’t tell him about me or Arthur. Said you weren’t even the one to tell him about Hosea.”

My lips trembled at the mention of Hosea. I hadn’t spoken about some of the gang members on my own considering how I felt about them. I was still horribly upset about Hosea when Charlie was born, and that only continued after he came to me after Sean told him about him. Sean hadn’t told my son that Hosea was dead -- I had to tell him myself when he asked if “we could find Mister Matthews”. That was an argument all on its own later on when he couldn’t hear us. But Charlie knew everyone’s names because Sean was foolish enough to use them. I really refused to talk about Micah with him. The only name he didn’t know was Dutch’s until that little bump in Lemoyne. Everyone had just referred to Dutch as the leader.

“He’s a good reader, you know,” I said. “I didn’t tell him any names because what if they showed up in newspapers or what if someone mentioned one of their names in passing? Is it wrong of me to want to protect him from that?”  
“No. If you got pregnant sooner and when everything was going to hell...”  
“I would have left. I really would have and maybe I would have just gone to Wapiti, but it didn’t turn out like that, and so I spent so long worrying if our baby was going to come out blue eyed and white-skinned, or if--”  
“Evie, breathe. You’re safe here. Okay?”

I nodded, and he left to start working for the day. Before I could even begin working on my needlepoint, in came Sadie with a small stack of letters.

“You doin’ okay?” she asked, dragging a chair over to the side of the bed.  
“My hand and shoulder still hurt, but I guess I’ll live,” I replied. “My side is fine, though. What are you doing here?”  
“Went down to Strawberry to check your mail.” She held them out to me. “Just, er...”  
I frowned. “Who wrote me, Sadie? Do I want to know?”  
“I dunno.”

With a groan, I took the stack of letters from her. There was one from Kieran and Mary Beth, another from Tilly, one from Swanson, and one from...

“What the fuck does Javier Escuela think he’s doing sending a letter to me?” I snapped.  
“Want me to get rid of it?”  
“Yes... No. I... Yes. I mean... I don’t know. It’s just like before, you know? Even when I’m not near him, he knows where I am. Probably has people keeping an eye on me or something...”

I looked at Sadie, who just looked back at me for a long moment until she realized why I was even looking at her.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” she said. “You wouldn’t look at Charles or John like that, now, would ya?”  
“You’re right,” I mumbled, opening the envelope. “Sorry...”  
“Don’t worry about it; it’s fine. What’s it say?”

Even if I had no idea what Javier wanted, I certainly wasn’t expecting him to ask to see me. Well, at least he was asking rather than showing up out of nowhere like Dutch had. But who the hell was next? Bill? Micah? _Karen_? I wouldn’t have minded Karen, actually, wherever she was. What even was the last thing I had ever said to Javier? It seemed to me that he’d been at the back of my mind the whole time. I could barely remember the last time I had seen him, much less if I had hit him or shouted at him. I was able to remember the last interaction I had with everyone but him. Well, maybe I had suppressed those memories considering all the shit he put everyone through. He’d been my friend, of course, and eventually something a bit more, so maybe I just forgot about him because of the things he said to me, about me, and then contributing to Arthur’s death. If Javier had been on the right side, perhaps Arthur could have survived just a little bit longer.

“He wants to meet with me,” I admitted, setting the letter down in my lap.  
“What.” Sadie took it from me and read it over for herself. “He’s got some balls to think--”  
“I’m gonna go so I can at least punch him.”  
“You think that’s a good idea? To go, I mean.”  
“Of course I don’t.”  
“How are you gonna go, huh? You ain’t gonna drag Charlie all the way to the border, now, are ya? You still ain’t healed, either; you gotta rest for at least a couple more days.”  
“You have any bounties? I can go to the border, hear what he has to say, punch him, and come right back. It can’t take more than a couple hours, right?”  
“Did ya not hear a goddamn word I just said? What if you get ambushed again on your way there or back?”  
“Do you remember how much Javier bugged me until I paid attention to him? You think if I just don’t show up he’ll give up?”

Sadie folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. She thought I was making a stupid choice. I realized how stupid it was, but if I could just punch Javier in the face it would make him realize that I didn’t care enough to have him back in my life or that I even wanted to talk to him.

“Charles ain’t gonna like that,” Sadie told me. “Just send a letter back to Javier and tell him you ain’t interested. It’s better you stay here and get better than go--”  
“Okay,” I huffed. “Okay... Will you go get me some supplies so I can write back?”  
“Evie.”  
“I’m not going to run off while you’re getting them; I promise.”

She left, but not before giving me a stern side-eye. I was a grown woman, for God’s sake; if I wanted to go to the Mexico border, I should have been able to go. Not all of my life choices were good ones -- everyone knew that. Javier deserved more than a punch in the face for what he did to John and Arthur. Maybe not death -- no, no, that was reserved for Micah, wherever the hell he was, whatever the hell he was doing -- but certainly a good beating and possibly a broken guitar. When was he even allowed to go back to Mexico, anyway? Well, “allowed” wasn’t the word for it. He’d chosen not to go back because of what he did because of some woman. Sean and Charles were only so lucky that Javier didn’t go to the lengths he had before leaving his home country. Then again, Dutch wouldn’t have liked that. I sighed and leaned back into my pillows as Sadie returned.

“What are ya gonna say?” she wondered.  
“I’m gonna tell him to leave me alone, but I’m not gonna say it so nicely,” I admitted. “It’s just a matter of how many words I want to put it in.”  
“Don’t take too long. How are you and Charles doin’?”  
“We’re good, I think. He took Charlie camping yesterday.”  
“Yeah, but I’m askin’ about the two of you, together.”  
“If you’re asking if we’ve slept together, no. We’ve not had any ‘real’ alone time. Besides, he’s been busy helping John and I’ve been busy being ambushed and beating people up.”  
“You want me to take Charlie back to town for the evening?”  
“It’s not a guarantee that--”  
“I’d expect for you two to at least hold each other. I’m takin’ that son of yours back into town.”  
“You really don’t have--”  
“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer. Hey, Charlie!”

She left the room again. There really wasn’t much a bedridden woman could do to stop someone when they were determined. Even if I’d been initially mean to her all those years ago, she at least tried her best to understand me once we talked through our problems. Eight years, one marriage, and two children later and she was still helping me. She was more independent than I could ever be. I could talk and complain and threaten to go on my own as much as I wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t be able to survive on my own. I needed someone with me that wasn’t a child; I needed someone who loved me and cared for me. I wanted to be strong for Charlie, but I really wasn’t. Not enough, at least. Acting tough didn’t mean I actually was tough.

“Mama, Auntie Sadie’s gonna take me back to Blackwater,” Charlie announced as he walked into the room.  
“Are you okay with that?” I asked. “If you don’t want to...”  
“She said that we can go see Siobhán! Will you be okay here without me?”  
“Yes, sweetie.”

Charlie hugged me tightly, causing me to wince. I didn’t make a sound, though; only hugged him back. Once he backed away, I could tell that something was wrong. I leaned forward slightly and held his hand.

“If something is bothering you, you can tell me,” I murmured.  
“I’m okay, Mama,” he replied. “I don’t wanna make you sad.”  
“I don’t want you to be sad, either.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. It seemed he was contemplating whether to say what he needed to or not. Whatever it was, I hoped he knew that I wouldn’t be angry with him. If it was a curiosity thing, then I could only encourage him if it was safe enough to pursue it. With a sigh, he hopped off the bed and looked at me.

“I don’t like that Siobhán isn’t with us,” he admitted. “I don’t like that you gave her to Sean.”  
“He’s her father, Charlie,” I said gently.  
“You’re her mama and I’m her big brother.”  
“Sometimes... Sometimes grown ups can get overwhelmed if they have too many responsibilities. Children are big responsibilities and...and sometimes grown ups don’t want a certain responsibility.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“It means that Siobhán is better with Sean. She would rather fall asleep in his arms when she’s been fussy and she’d rather get excited at seeing him in the morning or after a nap.”  
“Wh... What if something happens to Sean, Mama? Then Siobhán will be all alone and-and--”  
“They’re gonna be okay. I’m sorry for hurting you.”  
“Will she ever live with us again?”  
“I’ll talk to Sean about it when I’m better, okay? Is that fair?”

Charlie smiled brightly and hugged me again before running out of the room. Deep down, I had known Charlie didn’t like the idea of Sean “keeping” Siobhán. I couldn’t tell him outright that I didn’t actually want her, that I’d only had her because Sean wanted his own child. I’d said it over and over again that I did love her, but I didn’t love her enough. That was more than what Bonnie ever gave me -- she never loved me despite trying and faking. Maybe she thought she could fake it until she made it, but she just couldn’t do it. I could love my daughter, but not as much as I loved my son. Maybe Siobhán felt it in my touch that I didn’t love her how I should have and that was why she ultimately preferred Sean over me.

After a while of wallowing in self pity, I decided to just get out of the bed. I was still sore, but it didn’t stop me. I was only so lucky that I hadn’t been stabbed in any vital organs, otherwise I would have found myself back in Blackwater on a surgery table or even dead. Sadie had already taken off with Charlie, so neither of them were there to complain about me being up and about. Of course, there were still John, Uncle, and Charles. The only one to say anything, though, was Charles.

“You shouldn’t be up,” he told me, setting down the axe he was using to chop wood.  
“I’m very bored,” I replied. “Besides, I need fresh air and the open window isn’t enough, and I can’t see you from the bedroom.”  
“Don’t push yourself, Evie.”  
“I know you’re ‘actions over words’, but are you okay?”  
Charles furrowed his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“We haven’t been able to spend much time together because you’re either busy helping John or my kids are around. So I just...”  
“Nobody got outta what happened okay. We all had somethin’ happen, one way or another. Miss Grimshaw and Arthur died, a lot lost their only family, some died after... Seems some ain’t moved on yet.”  
“I’m sorry for prying.”  
“It’s fine, Evie. I’ll come see ya later.”

The supplies for John’s barn were still just sitting there. When were they going to build that thing? I hoped Abigail showed up soon; I missed her. But if she didn’t show up, I could understand why. It wasn’t lost on me that something serious must have happened that she and Jack weren’t in Blackwater. If she never showed up, would John keep the ranch or would he just get rid of it? He, Charles, and Uncle -- whenever he did something useful -- were putting so much work into the place that it’d be a waste if she never did.

I decided it would be best if I just returned to the bedroom and write that letter to Javier. I could have just left it, but I remembered he was so goddamn insistent and annoying that he would send letter after letter until I at least responded. The letter was supposed to be only one or two pages explaining why I didn’t want to see him and why he should have just left me alone. If he had someone watching me, then he should have known I had children and that was good reason enough to never see him again or hear from him again. There was the urge to go anyway and punch him in the face, but of course I couldn’t -- Sadie would blow a gasket and I couldn’t lie to Charles about where I was possibly going. Two pages turned into ten before I realized I was on my way to writing a whole novel. I didn’t want to write “sincerely” or “yours” or anything like that, like I had been taught. I just wrote my name and left it at that, even though it felt wrong to do such a thing. If Javier wanted to see me so bad, he could drag himself out of Mexico and into Blackwater and risk being arrested.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going,” I sighed when I noticed Charles in the doorway. “Is it night already?”  
“Whatever you wanna say, it looks like a lot,” he replied, wandering into the room and shutting the door behind him.  
“I have...many feelings still. Mostly anger. If I did go, I’d probably realize I was being an idiot halfway there and just turn back around, anyway.”  
“You ever wanna see anyone else again?”  
“Karen, even if it’s just for a few moments. I already saw Tilly in Saint Denis, and...you’re here... Er, Charles, speaking of seeing people, who wrapped my shoulder and my side?”  
“I did. Figured you wouldn’t want Uncle or John seein’ all those scars.”  
“Thank you. I’ve been wondering about something else.”  
“What is it?”  
“Are you disappointed in me? About Siobhán, I mean.”  
“A person can only take so much. It ain’t like you left her on a stranger’s doorstep or at a church in the middle of the night. It don’t matter if I’m disappointed or not. If she wasn’t with Sean, then yeah, I would be.”

I wasn’t looking forward to the talk Sean and I needed to have about our daughter. Maybe he’d be glad to have me take her off his shoulders so he could go and do what he pleased. Well, as far as I knew, he could be using Siobhán to attract the ladies to him. Apparently women liked it when men were good with children. Okay, I knew I loved the fact that Sean was good with kids and how open Charles was to spending time with Charlie.

“You should get some sleep,” Charles told me, dimming the light.  
“Will you...um... I know I’m not better yet, but...”  
“All you need to do is ask, Evie.”  
“I’m--I’m asking.”  
♞♞♞

“Evie!” Sean called. “Evie!”

I turned to look at him as he walked up to me. Siobhán was fast asleep in his arms. He looked angry about something, but what? Had Charlie spoken to him about something? I let the saloon’s door go and moved closer to him.

“What’s going on?” I wondered.  
“That fuckin’ old fiance or whatever is what’s goin’ on,” he replied.  
“Declan? What happened now?”  
“Said he’s gonna take Siobhán away ’cause apparently a baby needs a mother.”

I stared at him for a moment before what he said sunk in.

“He said _what_?” I snapped. “There are plenty of babies without a mother.”  
“Would ya take her so I can go take care of him?” Sean asked, albeit sounded more like a statement.  
“No; you’re supposed to be staying out of trouble.”  
“What about you, then? Beatin’ him and a bunch of other fellers up and even killin’ some.”  
“I’m not the one taking care of a baby. Besides, he’s only threatening to do so because it’s me. If Siobhán was any other woman’s baby, he’d mind his own business. Let me deal with it.”  
“No--”  
“Sean, shut up! Just because I wasn’t ready to be a mother at twenty-four or a mother at twenty-five or a mother at thirty-two, that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let Declan O’Malley bully either of us into submission because Siobhán doesn’t have me around!”  
“_Evie_.”  
“What?!”

Sean was giving me a stern expression. What was he even thinking? So I wouldn’t let him go deal with Declan -- beat him or kill him, it didn’t matter -- so what? Declan was my responsibility because I never wanted to give him the time of day all those years ago.

“I’m takin’ Siobhán and goin’ back to Canada,” Sean told me.  
“Huh?” I stammered.  
“I was gonna deal with him and then go, but...I’ll just take her and go.”  
“Did... Did you tell Charlie when he came to see you? Or Sadie?”  
“No. Sadie’s just gonna try to talk me out of it and Charlie will just cry.”  
“Well, he loves his sister.”  
“And I like her _alive_. I ain’t givin’ her back to you.”  
“You act like I’m the most dangerous one out of the two of us. If you’re gonna keep her, then you do better and not pull any of that bullshit you did when we lived in Arkansas.”

Sean shook his head as he walked away. I didn’t know how I was going to tell Charlie that Siobhán wasn’t coming back to us. That would upset him so much; I didn’t want to see him cry or see him actually throw a temper tantrum for the first time in his life. He was going to wonder how I was okay with allowing Sean to take Siobhán to Canada with him, how I wasn’t a sobbing mess, how I could just let my baby go knowing I might have never seen her again. He wasn’t even okay with Sean taking care of her when we were in the same town. Now they were going to be in a whole other country. Sure, that country was attached to our country, but it wasn’t like we could take a day and go see them.

Charlie came out of the saloon with Sadie behind him. I had no idea I was going to have to tell him this soon, but the longer I waited would be worse than telling him immediately.

“Mama, aren’t you coming inside?” he wondered, tugging on my dress.  
“Um...” I mumbled.  
“Were you gonna go see Siobhán?”  
“No. Well... Um...”  
He suddenly smiled. “Did you tell Sean to give her back?”

I looked at Sadie, who knew right then and there what was going to happen. If Charlie took it the wrong way, which I expected him to do, he wasn’t going to want to talk to me or see me. Sadie was going to be the one who would have to talk to him. Kneeling down in front of him, I exhaled sharply.

“Look, sweetie, I’m sorry, but...Sean and I think it’s best if he takes her to Canada,” I said. “He doesn’t want that man from church to take Siobhán away, so it’s to keep her safe.”

Just as I suspected, he really didn’t take that news well at all. First, he looked angry, and then he started crying. I didn’t blame him. But then he hit me hard enough that it actually did hurt; neither Sadie or myself could say anything to that.

“I hate you!” he shouted, before running off.

I stood back up, putting my hand to my cheek where I’d been hit. He’d never hit me before or said that he hated me. Charlie was always such a good child. I’d expected him to be angry, but not ever did I expect for him to say such things or do such things. I bit my lip, looking at Sadie.

“You okay?” she asked.  
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Would you go talk to him?”  
“I’ll get him. You head inside and relax.”

I should have listened to Sadie, but instead I went ahead and headed over to the church. It was quiet inside; there was only a sister doing some dusting of the windowsills. I looked around, seeing that they had gone ahead and used the money I’d given to the church to begin repairing it. The sister looked at me after a moment, jumping. She’d not heard me come in, evidently.

“May I help you?” she said.  
“Is Dec-- Is Father O’Malley around?” I inquired.  
“He is in his office. Should I take you to him?”  
“I can find him on my own. Thank you.”

I’d told him not to go anywhere near Sean, but he must have thought my threats were empty. Well, I was about to show him just how full they were. He wasn’t going to scare me away; in fact, he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt me or my children again. I knew that by the time I was finished with him, Sean and Siobhán would be out of Blackwater already. Even if it wouldn’t change anything, I was so fed up with the men who thought they could just walked all over my family and I and think that I would just take it laying down. I knocked on Declan’s office door and waited.

“Don’t say anything,” I snapped, pushing him back before he could say anything.

I took a chair and pinned it against the door beneath the handle. For once, Declan listened to me. He must have sensed that I meant business. I didn’t quite know what I was going to do just yet, but it would come to me eventually. I was done giving him chances to be the bigger person and leave me alone. I should have paid someone to bash his skull in when I had the chance. But now my daughter was gone for good and I didn’t know if Charlie would ever be able to see her again.

“What part of ‘stay away from Sean’ don’t you understand?” I asked.  
“You didn’t expect for me to actually listen to you, did you?” he replied.  
“After I beat you up, don’t you think it would have been _wise_ to listen?”  
“Every woman has her place; yours is keeping your mouth shut and letting the _men_ do the talking.”

I kneed him in the groin with an annoyed sigh. The absolute nerve of him.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we aren’t married,” I told him as he tried to not roll around in pain. “We never were going to be married and we sure aren’t ever going to be married. Besides, no woman in her right mind in this day and age would just sit back and let someone like _you_ do the talking for her.”  
“Tess--” he began.  
I kicked him in the stomach. “My name is Evangeline! You think that just because you’re a real priest now it will stop me from causing you pain?” I put my hair up into a bun. “How much I wish you were _Micah_. You should have stayed away and never spoken to me in church. You can hurt me as much as you wish, but to bring Sean and my baby girl into your jealousy? You’re asking for it!”

I didn’t need my gun or my crossbow, not even my knife. It was so much more satisfying kicking this holier-than-thou attitude ridden jerk. Every now and again, I would stop my kicking to catch my breath and continue talking down to him. If he’d just left Sean alone, my baby girl would have still been in Blackwater and Charlie wouldn’t have done what he did.

“Tessa...” Declan groaned, coughing up blood now.  
“Shut up!” I shouted, kicking his side.  
“Stop. I-I’ll leave you alone--”  
I scoffed. “You think I’ll believe you? Not even the Pinkertons could bring me back to you. Your words mean nothing.”

He had to have known I wasn’t going to let him leave his office, because he began to pray. To God, to Jesus, to Mary. I heard and I saw he was scared out of his wits now, but what would words do? Words wouldn’t save him. If I had screamed and cried for God to save me in the cabin when I still believed, what made him think that his praying would solve anything? I kicked him in the head to make him shut up.

“I’ve been here for fifteen minutes already!” I yelled at him. “So where’s your God now, Declan?” I kicked him in the chest. “Where is He?!”  
“I should have...had you locked in an asylum...” he said, his breathing raspy and slow.  
“Well,” I cracked my knuckles with a sigh, “it’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it?”  
“Or had you killed when I...found out you had a child...with that Red--”

I felt my anger well up inside me all over again, and so I went ahead and kicked him in his chest a few times in quick succession. Was he trying to make his death faster? I couldn’t blame him; the one thing I wished for in that cabin so many years ago was for Colm or Bonnie to give me death. But he deserved this long suffering. He wasn’t going to tell me what to do anymore and I wasn’t going to leave a chance for him to do anything to Charlie next.

“You keep Charles out of this!” I shrieked.

It wasn’t but a moment longer that kicking him was no longer enough for me. I got on top of him and began punching him as hard and as quick as I could. Even if I could feel bones cracking beneath my knuckles, even if I could hear blood squishing on contact, even if he was begging for mercy, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t _want_ to stop. Even when his begging subsided and I couldn’t feel his chest rising and lowering anymore, I kept going. I kept going until I was grabbed from behind.

“Evie, it’s done!” Sadie told me. “It’s done. He’s dead. It’s okay.”  
I looked at her, holding my breath for a short moment. “When did--?”  
“I heard ya screamin’.”  
“An--And Charlie?”  
“He’s waitin’ for us at the saloon. C’mon; let’s go get ya cleaned up.”  
“The sister.”  
“I took care of her.”

Outside, she took me over to a barrel of water and helped me get the blood off my face and hands. My knuckles were raw from hitting Declan so many times. It had been overkill, hadn’t it? I felt better now that I got my anger out, but I was still worried about Charlie. According to Sadie, she had followed him to where Sean and Siobhán had been staying. Sean had apologized and even mentioned that it wasn’t my fault he was taking his little sister away. At least he got to say goodbye. Even then, before Sadie came to find me, she had a chat with Charlie about what was going on. Even if he still hated me, I didn’t want him to see me covered in blood. There was blood on my shoes and on my dress. Only my hair really came out unscathed because of the bun.

“Before...” I mumbled. “Before I met Dutch, I could never imagine doing something like that. But then...the O’Driscolls and Bonnie and...Micah...”  
“It’s okay to change,” Sadie assured me. “Do ya want a drink?”  
“No. I don’t.”  
“What else were ya like before Dutch?”  
“I was stuck up and I suppose a bit sheltered. You never would have caught me doing laundry or getting dirty or darning. I never would have been caught chasing after men like that. Well, I never chased after men at all. They were all so boring.”  
“If you hadn’t met Dutch...”  
“I know, Sadie. I know.”

We went back to the saloon and up to the room I was renting out. Sadie had left Charlie in her room, just in case I needed time alone or, in this case, I needed to get changed into something else. While I did so, she went next door to speak with him a bit more. My hands hurt from all the punching I had done. It was to be expected, of course, especially since I knew what I was doing. Being in Dutch’s gang definitely changed me. It changed everybody at some point, probably. It wasn’t that I wished I hadn’t met Dutch or joined the gang; it was that I wished that some things had just turned out differently. I wished I hadn’t been taken and tortured; I wished I hadn’t caused Cornelius so much grief... I wished I had met Charles before anything else. If I hadn’t joined, Charlie and Siobhán wouldn’t be around, but perhaps I would have really been locked up or maybe my father would have come around and helped me with my first baby. I came out of my thinking when the door opened.

I barely had any time to react to Charlie at all. He just ran at me, throwing his arms around my waist and burying his face in my dress. I placed my hand on his head gently with a sigh. I really hoped he was okay. Even if he hated me, I could most likely live with that. It wasn’t something I would have liked, but he was a little boy and as smart as he was, I couldn’t expect him to understand every single thing.

“I don’t hate you, Mama,” he sobbed, looking up at me. “I-I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “You were scared.”  
“I’m really sorry.”


	44. Chapter 44

I winced as I sat down at the desk, my shoulder still sore from being shot. I looked in the mirror; it went without saying that I could barely recognize the woman I used to be before I joined Dutch’s gang. Well, even if it was eight years ago and appearances were bound to change, I knew I still looked mostly the same as back then. The thing was that I was only slightly chubbier from giving birth to two children, almost three, and I used to be happier. Before the cabin, I had no problem being happy. But perhaps my happiness began to dwindle just before I ran off with Dutch. Even after heading back to Arkansas after everything happened, people constantly mentioned that I didn’t smile as often, or even laugh. Not even a chuckle. My old friends always mentioned that I wasn’t a joy to be around anymore, that I used to never shy away from some good gossip. Everyone eventually brought their children to tea at Joanna’s house, but before the first time I was told not to bring Charlie. If I couldn’t bring my baby, then I wasn’t going to give them the pleasure of talking down to me. Even if I had Sean, Kieran, Mary Beth, and Lenny at home, I was always so lonely.

Joanna’s little boy was one of the children who made Charlie’s school life miserable. Belittling me was one thing, but to even try to bad talk my baby was a whole other thing. Even if I didn’t go to her tea parties anymore, my throwing tea at her must have told her that I was finished with her completely. Of course, Father O’Malley heard about it and tried to talk to me about how I used to be. I was fully aware how I behaved and spoke back then, but no one in my town could understand. Not in the slightest. I never even thought about killing people, but even then when I was in the gang, I only killed O’Driscolls. People who genuinely deserved it. Those men I had killed because they beat up Charlie... I could have let them go with a severe warning and just a bullet in their legs. I didn’t have to kill Declan; I could have let Sadie or Sean handle it if they felt the need, which Sean did feel the need. My mindset, I supposed, was that they were bad people. They were bad people who could have either killed Charlie or taken Siobhán. I didn’t know if those men had only wanted to bruise Charlie enough that he would be too scared to show his face in public again or if they really did mean to kill him.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by knocking on the door. Rubbing my eyes, I got up to answer it. Charlie had spent the past couple of nights in Sadie’s room, thinking that perhaps I needed some more time alone, so at least he wasn’t there to be woken up by the knocks. At the door was Charles; it was still so early in the day that I didn’t expect for him to show up at all, especially after hearing Uncle had been tortured by the Skinner Brothers. Either way, I invited him into the room with a sigh and sat back down at the desk.

“How’s Uncle?” I wondered, picking up my hairbrush.  
“He’s gonna be fine,” Charles replied. “Gonna take a while to be okay, but he’ll be pullin’ through. Where’s Charlie?”  
“In Sadie’s room; said I deserved some space.”  
He took the brush from me and ran it through my hair. “Everything okay?”  
“Maybe. I-I don’t know. Sean took Siobhán back to Canada with him and Charlie didn’t react well to that news. It was in the heat of the moment, but he hit me and said he hated me. It was unexpected, but understandable, I guess.”  
“Evie...”  
“He apologized later; it’s okay.”  
“You haven been sleeping.”  
“Of course I have been. Just...not for long.”

It was quiet for a few moments. I wasn’t lying when I said that I didn’t sleep for long -- it was only an hour, or a couple at the best. It had been an emotional couple of days. I’d not felt that many emotions altogether in so long. It was exhausting. I was exhausted.

“Charles,” I said suddenly, looking at Charles in the mirror, “will you please tell me the truth?”  
“Always,” he reminded me.  
“When you look at me, what is it that you see, exactly? Do you...see me as a woman or...some kind of monster like Bonnie was?”  
“I see you as a woman, Evie. Are you okay?”  
“No. No, I’m not.”  
“Did somethin’ else happen or did you have a nightmare?”  
“Declan is the reason Sean went back to Canada and why my baby girl is gone. An-And after what Charlie did and said, I...” I burst out crying. “Charles, I killed Declan.”  
“Who knows what else he’s done over time? If you’re askin’ me, I should’ve done it myself that time in Strawberry when he bashed your head into the closet.”  
“It was a different time, wasn’t it?”

He set the hairbrush down on the dresser and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. It was a different time when that meeting in Strawberry happened. Everyone was finally at least happy again, there was a dog, and nothing so horrible was happening during that time. If I’d had any nerve back then, the same as I did after witnessing what I did at Shady Belle, I could have killed Declan. But it was like I was still a scared little girl when it came to Declan; a hit hadn’t sufficed at all.

“I was more worried about gettin’ you out of that room,” Charles mentioned. “You ain’t nothin’ like Bonnie. She ran with a gang that killed whoever and whatever, never mindin’ if they were innocent or not. She let all that stuff happen to you, didn’t even bat an eye. You could never kill an innocent person or torture someone, especially not a kid.”  
“Oh, my God, they killed children, too?” I sobbed.  
“See this? Right here? What you’re doin’ is proving that you’re nothin’ like your mother.”  
“Meeting Dutch was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me.”  
“I guess you could say the same for me.”

He let me go and I was able to lean forward onto the desk. If I’d not ran away with Dutch, could I have somehow met Charles on our own terms? Would I have understood him as I did when I joined the gang? Would I have...fallen in love with him as I had? Or would I have just continued to be the way I was? Was it possible that I wouldn’t have even gave Charles a second glance? What if I talked down to him? What if I’d never met Dutch at all? Then I never would have changed at all and I wouldn’t have fallen pregnant to begin with. It was so hard to not think just how different my life could be if I hadn’t gone to that saloon at all. Cornelius would still be alive, but I wouldn’t have Charlie. I would have most likely just decided to settle down one day if my father had found a man nice enough. Maybe I would have even more children. I didn’t know how likely it would have been for Charles and I to meet some other way, but I wanted to believe that, somehow, it could have worked out.

“Everything could have been different,” I mumbled. “Daddy could still be alive, but...”  
“Do you wish things had turned out differently?” Charles inquired.  
“Some things. I...” Inhaling sharply, I turned around in the chair and looked up at him. “There are times when I stop myself and think...my father could still be alive if it weren’t for me or...if I had just stopped and asked someone else to take care of Sean so I could make sure Daddy got on the train in Saint Denis. He should be here, alive. Instead, I wanted to watch over Sean and... Jesus, Charles, I should have stayed with Daddy until he got on that damn train.”  
“I don’t think he’d be blamin’ you for what happened.”  
“I have enough guilt for both of us.”  
“You didn’t kill your father, Evie. Colm did. Bonnie did.”  
“I’m the reason he left Arkansas in the first place. So even if he never blamed me, even if you never blame me, I’ll always blame myself that he’s dead and cold in the ground and I’m still living and breathing. Everything that happened to me didn’t have to happen; if I’d just ignored Dutch at that place or just never left my house at all. I’m-I’m happy that I met you and Sadie and the rest of our friends, and I love Charlie so much, b-but--”  
“You ain’t gotta explain yourself.”

Even if I didn’t have to explain myself to Charles, I still felt like I needed to. I could barely tell anything to Dutch when we were together because he always somehow turned it around or changed the subject; Sean somehow ended up turning what I said into a fight if he didn’t like what I said. I didn’t understand why they didn’t like talking to me properly. Did they think that, because I was supposedly high and mighty, I wouldn’t get what they were talking about and freak out at them? I freaked out often back then because everything was fresh and new. Just as I was opening my mouth to ask Charles why I didn’t need to validate my feelings and actions to him, he spoke.

“You went through more shit than most people do,” he explained. “It makes sense why you’d scream and cry and do whatever to protect others.”

I hadn’t been able to protect myself in that cabin or when Micah decided to take advantage of me. I was put in difficult situations -- tied up, drunk, a gun held to my back, a knife grazing my throat... It didn’t help that I hadn’t been able to even protect Hosea, either, when I was standing right in front of him. I didn’t know if he wanted to die or if he’d made peace with death, but he’d deserved to die on his own terms. It was fact that the cabin changed me, but perhaps even seeing Hosea being killed in front of me made things even worse. I’d not been able to save my father nor the camp’s father-figure. I supposed that night I got drunk and Micah had his way with me in my tent really pushed me over the edge. The scratching had gotten bad enough that scars had formed. Things were good for a while until they weren’t; until Sean got shot, until Cornelius was murdered, until Hosea was killed, and Arthur got shipwrecked on Guarma with a bunch of rats and a man with a God complex.

“Sometimes I forget that my father is dead,” I admitted. “It’s only for a moment, when I wake up in the morning. Or sometimes I’ll hope that the cabin was a nightmare and then I’ll look in the mirror.”  
“You gotta stop blaming yourself,” Charles told me.  
“I came from a life of luxury. There was no pain, there was no death, and there was no ‘what if’; just money, gossip, and God. I was safe in Arkansas; sheltered. I’d never...met anyone like you or Abigail before. I woke up in the morning knowing I had someone to do the cleaning and cooking for me. I didn’t know what it was like to be hungry or scared. I had my whole life planned out before I was even born and it wasn’t going to change just because Bonnie couldn’t love me. I was privileged and I chose to throw all that away for someone who didn’t even love me and because he promised me adventure. Please forgive me if I blame myself.”

Charles pulled me to my feet and into a tight hug. As many times as I said I blamed myself out loud, Sean, Sadie, and Charles said it wasn’t my fault equally the same. I had many regrets that I couldn’t change and it just ate me up inside. Perhaps if it weren’t for Charlie, I would have done what I wanted to do for so long. But I didn’t know how Sean would feel if I went through with it; there were plenty of times before I realized I was pregnant with my little boy where I just wanted to end my suffering, to stop the nightmares, the scratching, the constantly looking over my shoulder. So many things could have turned out differently, some for the better, maybe some for the worst.

“When did you know?” I asked, my voice shaking. “My father knew before I even did and I spent so long denying it.”  
“I ain’t too sure exactly, but I know it was before the cabin,” Charles replied. “Never said anythin’ because you were goin’ through enough and then all that with Dutch... Didn’t need to add anythin’ else to your plate.”  
“And me... Did you...know that I loved you or...”  
“I knew.”  
“You know...I still don’t know why you really love me...”  
He sighed, hugging me harder. “You learned from your mistakes and even if you were different from the rest of us, you still treated us nicely unless we deserved otherwise. You were even willing to put yourself through harm to save people; hell, you even wanted to help with the Indians even when you didn’t understand. Evie, hey.”

I pulled away slightly, looking up at him again. Even if he’d told me time and time again that he didn’t love me just because I was pretty or because I had a small physique, I still half-expected him to say that he loved me because of how I looked. I knew he didn’t care about that, but I was always so used to people only liking me because I was good-looking. People somehow managed to look past the scar I had on my lip, but I knew if they saw the rest of my scars they would turn the other way.

“You’ve never really told me why you love me,” Charles mentioned.  
“It’s because you’ve always been nice to me, even when I asked what ethnicity you are,” I explained, feeling my face beginning to burn. “You never got mad at me or...yelled at me, even when I probably deserved it. When no one else was nice to me or welcoming, you were, and when I was in trouble...I...could always ask for your help or you always came to find me without anyone asking you to... You didn’t get mad at me when I was with Sean or...when I slept with Kieran and Javier... Nobody...does that for just anyone. God, even when people thought I’d ran back to Arkansas or back to Daddy, you still trusted me and believed in me, and... I didn’t always deserve such kindness; I still don’t.”  
“You didn’t say much back then, either.”

I let him go and looked at the floor. By then, I was really becoming flustered. I still wasn’t used to letting my guard down again. The only time I allowed myself to feel so vulnerable with Sean was when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie and when I was giving birth. I was able to tell Sean with no issues why I loved him, but Charles? Never. He affected me in such positive ways that I supposed I didn’t know how to process them. It went deeper than just being funny, which is why I loved Sean. Maybe some people thought that I was just being over-dramatic or too emotional. Everything was different with Charles. He was really the only man I could ever really trust. I didn’t need to be drunk to sleep with him, I could tell him anything, and I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I could cry in front of him.

“You’re so good to me,” I said, finally looking at him again. “Any other man I’ve liked has either turned out to be so terrible or pushy...and arrogant...or...loud and brash... Really, you’re the only man who has never looked at me like I’m a piece of meat. You could have treated me like the spoiled rich lady like I was or treated me like trash, but you didn’t. But you’re so kind to other people, too, and I appreciate that you didn’t hurt people or harm anyone that didn’t need to be when you went out on jobs or what-have-you. Even if they’re you’re people, you didn’t _have_ help the Indians. You’re... You’re loyal to what you believe in and who you believe in and that--that’s so rare.”

I hugged him again; somehow, I felt if I didn’t I would have started crying again. I’d never told anybody why I really loved Charles; the most I’d ever told anyone was that it was because he was a good man. I knew I would have to tell someone, someday, why I completely loved him. I was just glad that it was him and not someone like Sadie. There was nothing stopping him from being a man like Dutch or Micah, but how he was... He could never be like them. He was too good. People might have argued that he could have been better if he never became an outlaw, but his morals and his loyalties and his beliefs were what made him different from any other. And it was wonderful. He was wonderful.

“I ain’t that good of a man,” he said as if he was reminding me. “But keep thinkin’ it if ya want.”  
“I want to,” I mumbled.  
He chuckled. “Okay.”

I pulled away again, only to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. Before I could even begin to think about stopping, he grabbed me by the waist to deepen our kiss. It was but a moment until he decided to pull away himself. Biting my lip, I wandered over to the door to lock it so no one could just walk in. I turned back to Charles nervously.

“I know you probably have work to get done on the ranch, but I just--” I began, only to be interrupted by him kissing me again.

Charles always told me that all I had to do was just ask; just ask him and he would give me whatever it was that I needed or wanted. Surely he had to understand that what I wanted was him. Still, he didn’t need me to beat around the bush, though he must have realized years ago that I didn’t know how to ask for it, that I didn’t know how to not beat around the bush. I didn’t know how to ask anyone for it. Asking for someone to take off my clothes didn’t have to necessarily even mean I was asking for them to have sex with me. Well...the only person I ever asked to take my clothes off was Charles.

Dutch told me he wanted it; almost demanded it, and I was always happy to oblige until I got pregnant. Then after I had that baby taken from me, I wasn’t happy to oblige at all; but I did agree to it. Then, of course, I didn’t want to disappoint Sean too much. He’d ask nicely, for the most part, sometimes jokingly or teasingly, and I’d nervously comply -- nervously, because what if I panicked even if I wasn’t under him or he couldn’t finish me off? What if I couldn’t finish him off? There really wasn’t much for a lady to do in bed considering the man almost always did the hard work. Javier was something else; so insistent, so annoying, and just because he couldn’t finish me off, ever, so angry and annoyed with me. From what I understood about that one night with Kieran, I was the insistent one, but he was too scared to hurt me that he just let me have my way with him and, somehow, we both finished just fine. I liked Kieran, but I didn’t like him enough; he was merely opportunistic and I was lonely and upset.

“You’re okay?” Charles asked.  
“Y-You don’t have to stay here for me,” I huffed.  
“Some nails and hay can wait.”

He waited for me to say something else, but I waited for him to grab me. When I realized that neither of those two things were going to happen, I instead grasped the front of his vest and pulled him over to the bed. It was just when he was about to take my nightdress off me that I grabbed his wrists to make him stop. I was okay, but I had to make sure that I was really okay. I’d not taken my clothes off when we’d slept together, merely because it was John’s house, and the only time Charles had seen my scars again was when he was patching me up. He hadn’t seen my whole body even then, though. So, I supposed, he really hadn’t seen my body in eight years. I knew what I looked like amidst all the scars. Even if I had delivered two children, the only thing that showed evidence was the little bit of baby fat in my face, but even then my body really didn’t look as different as it had back then.

“You don’t have to take it off,” Charles said gently.  
“N-No, it’s fine,” I replied. “Just...give me a second...”

I’d been prepared to be naked, but the feeling that I needed to check that I really was okay had been so overwhelming. It was Charles; it was only Charles. He didn’t care what my body looked like. I had to repeat that to myself in my head a few times before I swallowed hard.

“I’m good,” I whispered. “It’s okay.”

Charles finished taking my nightdress off and pushed me onto the bed. Just like eight years ago, he didn’t hesitate at the sight of my body. Rather, he climbed on top of me and, as always, kissed me when I cowered away in shyness. I was never not going to be shy with him; not that I minded, and I knew he didn’t mind, either. Still, once his own clothes were off, there wasn’t much I could do to stall anymore. I wanted him, so badly.

“Shit, did that hurt you?” he asked when I yelped.  
“No,” I assured him. “I’m alright.”  
“You’re sure? I...might’ve been a bit rough there.”

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. He had been unexpectedly rough, but it really was nothing I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t going to say it out loud, not in front of him, at least. I’d had worse than a rough start in the past, thanks to the O’Driscolls. It wasn’t often that I could forget what they did to me, but it was easy to when I was with Charles. Always, it had been like that. Just holding him, feeling his skin on mine... It was horribly sappy and something one would read in those terrible adult novels like Joanna loved, but it made sense. Before him I couldn’t understand how people found that they felt safer and protected in the presence of someone they loved.

“You... You can be rough,” I panted. “It’s okay...”

I was fine with rough, just as long as I knew he was going to be. But even if he knew he could be rough, he never acted on it on purpose. In fact, that had been the first time he’d been even slightly rough. I didn’t doubt that he could be so much rougher, but it boiled down to that he didn’t want to hurt me or scare me. Well, it could have been now that he just didn’t have the energy to be rough from all the hard work he’d been doing on the ranch. I cowered deeper into the bed when he stopped moving and unwrapped my arms from around him.

“Are you okay?” I breathed.  
“Yeah,” he replied.  
“But...you stopped...”

My voice had come out in a whine, so much so that I felt my face heat up from embarrassment. I covered my mouth. He’d not had much energy when we slept together at the ranch; maybe that was what was happening again. But even at the ranch, he’d not stopped. Unless...

“Y...You didn’t get shot when you went to save--” I began.  
“No,” he interrupted. “That ain’t it.”  
“Well...then...if you want to stop this, I won’t be upset or anything. I can understand if you’re tired or...don’t want this.”  
“I just thought of somethin’; that’s all.”

Thinking of something? In the middle of sex? What was he thinking of at such a time? Whatever it was, I knew it must have been important, otherwise he really wouldn’t have stopped. I didn’t want him to push anything. Maybe being with me, skin to skin, reminded him of the last time when we were really alone together; that night in Saint Denis. The last time I truly let myself be vulnerable to anyone for a long time. I knew that everything hit him hard; no one came out of that gang unscathed. I knew what happened to most of the gang, but I didn’t know what happened to Karen, Pearson, or Strauss. Charles probably saw that night in Saint Denis as the last time he really saw me happy.

“I’m okay, you know,” I suddenly mentioned. “Despite the nightmares and being the way I am now...I’m really okay. I mean, I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but...”  
“Evie, that ain’t what I’m worryin’ about,” he said. “What do ya want?”  
“I’m...sorry?”  
“I can’t hurt you. I won’t.”  
“Ah, um, Charles, if you don’t want to be rough with me, it’s okay. I-I was just saying...if you ever want to be...you’re allowed to. A-All I ask is that, if you want to be, you ask me.”  
“Sorry for stopping, but I needed to know.”  
“Well...at least you didn’t stop just so you could have a drink...”  
“Who would--”

I wrapped my arms around his neck again and kissed him before he could finish asking his question. I didn’t want to talk about anybody else or even think of anybody else. Charles got the point and, as he chuckled against my lips, continued taking me. He was gentler than I’d felt in such a long time, though. Soon enough, I tangled one of my hands up in his hair and scraped my nails along his back with the other.  
♞♞♞

“Mama, are you feeling better?” Charlie asked as I helped him button up his shirt.  
“Of course,” I murmured.  
“I’m sorry...”  
“You can stop being sorry, honey. I’m not mad. I wasn’t mad. Perhaps a bit sad for a while, but I’m okay now.”  
“Are we going to Mister Marston’s ranch?”

I nodded. By now, it had been just over a week since we’d both been there. We both could use a small break from the saloon and Blackwater. Besides, I figured that Charlie would want to see Charles again. Sadie was off bounty hunting, so there was a chance that John wouldn’t be there since they did some jobs together. Charlie and I headed out to the stables, where he went right up to Maple and took her out of her spot. The last time we took her out, we were attacked by those awful men. She’d not been hit, thankfully, but I didn’t think she would be able to handle another ambush. Hell, I didn’t think any of us could, especially Charlie.

“Are we going to live in the saloon forever?” he wondered as I helped him onto the saddle.  
“No,” I replied. “I know it’s been a while, but these things take time.”  
“Oh... When we do have a house, can we have a big backyard?”  
“We can have anything you want.”

I climbed up behind him with a sigh and, after making sure Charlie was secure, flicked Maple’s reins to get her moving. The trail this time around was busier than last time. It was bad of me, but if the Skinner Brothers decided to ambush someone I hoped it was someone else. The closer we got to the ranch, the better I felt about the odds of them leaving us alone. As we approached the ranch, I pulled back on the reins. A dog was bounding toward us, barking. When did John find the time to find a dog? Wasn’t he too busy with the ranch and bounty hunting with Sadie? Maple and Charlie weren’t scared of it, so I didn’t know why I was worrying so much. It seemed to be friendly and so it ran along with us as we rode onto John’s land. The dog kept barking until the front door opened, by which time I was about to hop off Maple to help my boy down.

“Evie!”

I turned to see Abigail standing on the porch. It took me a moment to realize who was standing in my line of sight. I ended up letting go of Maple prematurely and falling onto my back onto the ground. I didn’t waste a moment in getting up, however; I quickly ran over to her and threw my arms around her shoulders. The dog must have been hers, then; well, the family dog, at least.

“My goodness, it’s been so long,” Abigail said as I pulled away. “Well, you ain’t aged a day.”  
“I could say the same for you,” I replied. “Oh!”

I scurried back over to where Charlie and Maple were and helped him down. He immediately hid behind the skirt of my dress when I started to walk back over to the porch. Abigail waited patiently while I explained to Charlie who this new white lady was. When he heard what her name was, it didn’t take him long until he came out from behind me to look at her.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little boy I ever did see?” Abigail gushed.  
“I’m Charlie,” he told her.  
“Er, Evie, don’t tell Jack I said that.”  
“Speaking of, where is he?” I wondered.  
“He’s probably off reading again.”  
“Hey, Evie, everythin’ okay?” Charles asked, coming out of the house.  
“Charlie needed a change of scenery,” I explained. “We both wanted to see you, too. Abigail was a nice surprise.”  
“You didn’t say nothin’ about a child,” Abigail mentioned.  
“Thought you would’ve wanted to see him for yourself,” Charles replied.  
“Can I come work with you?” Charlie wondered, tugging on Charles’ sleeve.  
“If Evie says it’s okay.”  
“As long as you aren’t shooting anything or chopping anything up,” I said.

The two of them wandered off, with Charlie excitedly asking Charles what they were going to do. My boy was a strong kid, but I didn’t think he’d be able to lift hay bales. Well, he liked animals, so maybe they were just going to feed the livestock.

“When did that happen?” Abigail asked.  
“Charlie or the bonding?” I replied.  
“Charlie. Did you know or--”  
“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve explained this to people. Charlie wouldn’t be here if he came out blond.”  
“Oh, Evie, that must’ve been scary.”  
“He was a shock when I introduced him to Charles. They seem to get along okay. I...er...have a baby girl with Sean, too...”

I took out the family portrait out of the inside of my dress and handed it to Abigail. I didn’t look at it too often, partially because I was still angry at Sean and partially because I hated myself for letting Sean take Siobhán away from Charlie, who was luckily coping with it just fine. Either he was busy or didn’t think I wanted to know how they were doing in Canada, but I’d not received word from Sean that they arrived okay. I mentioned that they were in Canada before Abigail could even ask. She let out a sad sigh as she handed the portrait back to me.

“Hey, Ma,” a boy mumbled as he approached the porch.

I looked at him. No way that this boy was Jack. He was too grown up. Eleven or twelve perhaps? It was then that it really hit me just how long we hadn’t seen each other for. He was carrying a book -- a book read mostly by older people -- and I remembered how Hosea was teaching him to read and how he complained that reading was boring.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Jack said, looking at me. “Wait... Aunt Evie?”  
“What? You remember me?” I asked, genuinely shocked.  
“Well, sure. I remember you letting me give snacks to your horse all the time. Uh... Maple?”

As if he had actually, purposefully called her name, Maple whinnied and wandered over to the porch. She stood closely to the railing so her head was poking in between Abigail and I. She seemed to remember him, too, bowing her head for a pat. Jack rubbed her snout before heading into the house.

“I can’t believe it,” I mumbled. “He’s so big now...”  
“How old’s your boy?” Abigail asked.  
“He’s seven. Before you ask, Charles didn’t know about him until a couple months ago. But Charlie seems to like him. Charles was...well, is...a bit awkward. But it’s okay.”  
“Are you two okay? You and Charles, I mean.”

I felt my face begin to burn. I must have begun blushing, too, because Abigail quickly reiterated that she meant if we were still sweet on each other. But that just made my face burn even more, which so obviously told her that we were perfectly fine. Nothing was wrong; not at all.


	45. Chapter 45

I found myself near the Mexico border. I didn’t exactly mean to go that far, but I’d not been able to sleep and instead thought a ride would help relax me enough. I didn’t stop to talk or look around anymore than I had to, which was how I found myself so close to the border. The sun was already coming up by the time I realized where I was. All I could see, really, was sand and dirt for miles, with the occasional cactus or small body of water -- those things seemed to be everywhere. I didn’t know how I managed to get so far without being attacked by anyone, either.

Just as I was turning around to go back to John’s ranch, a gunshot rang out. The bullet lodged itself into the dirt right in front of Maple, who became startled and pulled back onto her hind legs. I did my best to calm her down, but she just kept shaking her head. She was only behaving in such a way because she sensed great danger. I looked around quickly, holding my breath. It was a good time to really turn around and hightail it back to the ranch. I managed to calm her down, but it was barely a second later that another bullet was shot into the dirt in front of her. This time, she bucked me right off my saddle. I landed on the ground, the air getting knocked out of me, while she took off across the desert.

“Crap...” I breathed, slowly getting to my feet.

Luckily, Maple hadn’t run too far off, but she was still not close enough that I could calm her down to bring her back with just words. I ran quickly to her side to try and calm her down again. She was spooked, that was for sure. As I looked her over and reached into my saddlebag, a gun cocked behind me. I was annoyed by this point. Whoever it was scared my horse and was now trying to scare me. I finished taking the carrot out of the saddlebag and fed it to Maple, before turning to look at who it was.

“Good to see you, _amiga_.”  
“What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand?” I demanded, folding my arms across my chest.  
Javier holstered his gun. “I understand all of it. Just don’t wanna listen to it.”

I stared at him. Jeez, he _was_ annoying. I was ready to punch him in his throat, but it wasn’t like I would be able to climb on top of Maple and go back toward MaCfarlane’s Ranch fast enough. I didn’t know if he had other guys laying in wait, but surely he still had even some standards from his time in the gang? Though, I wouldn’t have been too surprised if he didn’t, especially after he decided to side with a goddamn rat.

“So...what?” I asked. “You’re just hanging around here like a creep, just hoping I show up?”  
“I was just out hunting,” Javier replied, patting Maple’s side. “I’d notice that _body_ anywhere.”  
“Keep your thoughts about my body to yourself. Why the hell would you think it’s necessary to scare my horse the way you did? And why the hell are you going hunting on this side of the river?”  
“I knew you’d talk to me if you had no other choice, so I gave you no other choice -- and maybe I prefer the wildlife on this side.”  
“Well...I’d like to go home now.”  
“C’mon, Evie, I just wanna talk to ya.”  
“I don’t want to talk to you. I didn’t even want to see you.”  
“Why not?”

I stared at him. Was he serious? Did he not know that I knew what he did? What he was apart of? Did he really think that I was so fickle that I would forgive him for everything he did -- the pestering, the name-calling, the blind loyalty? I forgave him twice, perhaps even three times, while in the gang, but no more than that.

“I’ve moved on, Mister Escuela,” I said. “I have a son and he has dreams. There’s no point in speaking with you.”

Javier grabbed the skirt of my dress and pulled me closer to him, but I just as immediately slapped him in the face. So that’s what he wanted, did he? To have me again? I shoved him away from me, furious. Who did he think he was? Well, no, I knew the answer to that. He thought he was hot shit and maybe he thought that enough time had really passed that I would just give in to him again. No. Absolutely not.

“I know you sided with Dutch and Micah!” I snapped. “Keep your hands off of me!”  
“What was I supposed to do, huh?” he asked. “We was loyal, unlike--”  
“Don’t you stand there and talk to me about loyalty, Javier Escuela! You know nothing of loyalty! _Nothing_! You sided with the man who killed Arthur, who got Dutch into so much trouble, and--and gave me this ugly scar on my face, and let us not forget what he did to me in my own tent! Loyalty is what Arthur did for John and his family, and what Charles did for the Indians at Wapiti, not following someone like _Dutch_.”  
“I’m sorry for what I did--”  
“You’re just saying that. Besides, even if you really were sorry, I wouldn’t accept your apology. You treated me so horribly. You treated so many of us horribly. Don’t think I didn’t forget about how you called me a whore just because I chose Charles. You men...” I scoffed with a shake of my head. “You think you can just sleep with as many women as you wish, but the moment a woman sleeps with someone else she’s something to be looked down on. Through everything, only one man treated me kindly, even if I was with someone else instead of him. You’re not sorry. You’re not anything but someone who had blind loyalty.”  
“You ever actually like me, _mi amor_?”  
“Of course I did, you _moron_. I was worried for you when you went on that Blackwater job and I drank with you all those times and I tried to give you a chance. All of you that were missing for a month, I only wanted you and Arthur to come back. But you pushed my hand, Javier.”  
“What can I say? I like a pretty woman with a hot temper sometimes.”  
“I don’t enjoy getting angry. If you still somehow love me even after all these years, please, just...leave me alone. All I want... All I want is to have a good life with my son and his father.”

It was a moment before Javier said anything. If he really wasn’t going to let me go back, then I supposed I was just going to have to shoot him or stab him and get out of there like a bat flying out of hell. He had to realize that I was being serious.

“What’s your kid’s name?” he asked as he lit a cigarette.  
“Why?” I muttered.  
“I just wanna know. If you think I’m gonna hurt him, or have someone else hurt him, I ain’t gonna do that.”  
My lips twitched. “His name is Charlie Cornelius. I’m...a mother to a little girl, too, but...her father has her.”  
“Sounds like you’re gettin’ everything you ever wanted.”  
“Not everything.”

I was never going to have everything I wanted. I was never going to have my father back, or introduce my kids to Hosea, or a scarless body. I might not have ever seen Sean or Siobhán again. Everything else that I could possibly have and want was within reach, still. If Javier was still coming onto me, that probably meant that he didn’t have a family of his own. Obviously a family couldn’t stop a man from trying to get into some other woman’s sheets, though.

“What’s your girl’s name?” Javier wondered.  
“Siobhán Sadie,” I said.  
“Do they look like you?”  
“Why are you asking?”  
“’Cause I miss you. I get that I treated you like shit but that don’t mean I can’t miss you. It’s been eight years, Evie. I wanna know what you’ve been up to. Catch up, y’know?”  
I inhaled sharply before folding my arms back across my chest. “They don’t really look like me. Charlie looks like... He looks like his father. And Siobhán looks like Sean.”  
“Sean? MacGuire?”

I blinked at him, confused, as he chuckled for a good moment. What was so funny about Sean being the father of my baby girl? I could feel myself getting impatient with this man. He was annoying me, that was certain. He finally stopped when I let out a loud huff.

“He actually had the balls to have a kid with you,” Javier snorted.  
“Sean also had them to marry me,” I snapped.  
“Wait, I’m confused. Sean is your girl’s father, but not your boy’s?”  
“We’re divorced...”  
“What’s that? Er, never mind.”  
“If you really have to know, I didn’t know I was pregnant with Charlie until a few months after I left with Sean, and then Sean ended up proposing to me, and I had Charlie, and last year I had Siobhán. So, no, Sean is not the father of my baby boy.”  
Javier frowned, almost like he had some sort of bad epiphany. “Then who’s your boy’s father?”  
“Who the hell do you think it is? Charlie is going to be waking up soon and I need to be there.”  
“You have a kid. With Charles Smith.”  
“My boy is kind, and smart, and loving. More than what you or Micah or Bill Williamson will ever be. Let me move on, Javier. Don’t you ever contact me again or do anything that would make me even want to shoot you in your face.”  
“I really do miss ya, Evie. If ya remained loyal to Dutch, we could--”  
“‘Loyal to Dutch’? ‘_Loyal to Du_-’ What about _your_ loyalty to _me_?! Micah forced himself onto me when I was drunk and then again when I couldn’t supposedly inconvenience anyone! Why would I choose to be loyal to someone who allows that to happen or-or calls it a ‘mistake’? It wasn’t a mistake! Do you know how scared I was when I was pregnant with Charlie? _Do you_? What do you think I would have done if he came out looking like Micah?! Don’t stand there talking to me about loyalty when you turned your back on the woman you supposedly loved. You had a hand in killing Arthur and you had a hand in helping Dutch convince everyone else that John was dead, and let’s not forget about wanting to orphan Jack. I remained loyal to the people who deserved my loyalty; it was your decision not to be one of those people. Dutch saved so many of us, but that doesn’t mean that we had to die for him or agree with every bad decision he made, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean we had to side with a _rat_. Now, please, for the love of all that is sacred, leave me and my family alone.”

Javier shook his head as I climbed on top of Maple, almost like he couldn’t believe that I didn’t want anything to do with him. He whistled for his horse as I rode off. I’d lied about Charlie being awake soon; I just needed a good excuse to get away from Javier. I pushed Maple as hard as I could to get back to Beecher’s Hope. Exhaustion was creeping up on me more and more the closer I got there. Truthfully, I felt like crying. I somehow felt like Javier would actually listen to me for once and really leave me the hell alone.

I hitched Maple up outsidwhy e of the house and headed inside. Charlie was still passed out on the couch, and so I covered him back up with a blanket before heading to where Charles was. He was also still sleeping, but stirred when I climbed onto the bed. I ended up waking him, not on purpose, when I went to rest my head on his chest. Before I managed to, he spoke up.

“You okay?” he asked.  
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I’m just...really tired. Can I please sleep on you?”  
“Sure.”

I wrapped an arm around his torso and rested my head on his chest. Just as he was wrapping an arm around my shoulders, I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.  
♞♞♞

“Are you busy, Charles?” I wondered.  
“Not at this moment,” Charles replied. “Somethin’ wrong?”  
“Could you...teach me how to braid Charlie’s hair? He doesn’t want to bother you to do it, but...I don’t know how...”

He grabbed my hand, taking me to where Charlie was sitting and reading. Ordinarily, Charlie only ever wore his hair back in a ponytail or down. I never cut it through the years; I wanted him to have that decision. Most of the men he met didn’t have hair like his; Charles was the first man to meet who had the same kind of hair. He didn’t like the shorter look, really, and refused to cut it. The barber back home would probably turn his back on us, anyway.

“Am I in trouble?” Charlie asked.  
I blinked down at him. “No...? Why? Did something happen?”  
“I stepped on Rufus’ tail earlier... I didn’t mean it!”  
“Baby--”  
“He growled at me and I got scared, so I--”  
“Accidents happen,” Charles told him. “You ain’t it trouble. I’m just gonna show your mother how to braid your hair.”

Charlie definitely got his panic from me. I panicked too much for my own good, even back when we were in the gang. Maybe it had always been inside of me or maybe it was just an after affect of the cabin. I sat next to Charles as he sat behind our boy and watched intently as he got to work. It didn’t look that difficult to do, really, and according to him it was the easiest braid to do. I didn’t get a chance to practice yet, though; John was calling for me. I left Charlie and Charles to find John. He was holding a letter.

“Everything okay?” I wondered.  
“Looks like it’s from Sean,” he replied.

I took the letter from him and opened it. Sure enough, it was from Sean. It seemed as though he had to get someone to write for him. He couldn’t read, so he didn’t know how to spell properly or write properly. I’d seen his handwriting before and it was hardly legible. In any case, the letter was to let Charlie and I know that he and Siobhán made it back to Canada okay; that they were settling down in some place called Prince Edward Island. I let out a sigh of relief that I finally knew what was going on with them. There was a photo of the two of them in the envelope as an extra assurance that everything was fine.

“Sean ain’t changed much,” John mentioned when he looked at the photo. “Still looks and sounds like the same kid.”  
“However Siobhán turns out, it better not be like Sean or myself,” I sighed, placing the letter and photo into my pocket. “You never know with redheads, though.”  
“You ever gonna see ‘em again?”  
“I hope so. Prince Edward Island... I think I saw it on a map once. It’s on the far side of Canada. Are you going out bounty hunting again soon?”  
“Don’t think so. Me and Sadie almost got eaten by a fuckin’ monster of a bear last time.”  
“Aren’t most bears monsters?”  
“This one was bigger than a grizzly, Evie.”  
“I-- What?”  
“Small ones is fine. The black ones. Just turn around and run away and don’t wanna be bothered or bother you. Others is gonna rip your guts out.”  
“I remember when I got attacked by a cougar. That, uh... Well...that was bad enough.”  
“When were you attacked by a cougar?”  
“Oh, it was back when we were at Beaver Hollow.” I nodded. “Dutch was getting tired of my crap so he decided to ask Sean to kill me. We went hunting, Sean refused to kill me and asked me to beat him up, and I refused and got attacked by the cougar.”

John stared at me like I was crazy. I knew I sounded crazy. I’d spoken about it like it wasn’t a big deal. Compared to everything else that happened to me back then, it really was no big deal. It was at the time, but looking back on it, it was preferable to being tied to a table and be made a fool of, or to be taken advantage of in my tent, or to almost be killed in a swamp by my own mother.

“Jesus,” John finally breathed. “Didja end up beating Sean up or what?”  
“Like I said, I refused,” I replied. “Sadie came and found us and she beat him up for me, but we played it like I did it. I should really ride into Strawberry and see if I have any mail from Mary Beth. We’re looking for Karen, so--”  
“Karen?”  
“Yes. Karen.”  
“Er...Tilly wrote me a letter, and, well...y’know Karen never stopped drinkin’ after Hosea died, right?”  
I hesitated for a moment. “Right.”  
“She drank herself to death.”

It took me a moment to fully comprehend what he had said. Karen was dead? Was it suspected or was it fact? I could understand that it was completely possible that she really was dead. Maybe Sean should have left with her instead of waiting for me or for Arthur to send us away. Karen had always been somewhat jealous of me, even if I told her not to be, that looks weren’t anything. She was so pretty, but maybe she really thought no one loved her romantically because of how she looked. I had to wonder if Sean knew if she was dead. What if I’d sent Sean to hunt her down to bring her to Arkansas? Would she be okay? Would she be alive? Or would she still have drank herself to death? She probably died sad and alone.

“It’s worse than I thought it was,” I whispered.  
“Most of us got out,” John told me.  
“Who else?”  
“Pearson owns the general store in Rhodes; got himself a lady and married her, too. I know you ain’t never liked him, but he’s doin’ good.”  
“What about...um...Mister Strauss?”  
“You should ask Charles.”

Charles? John seemed to know enough about everyone else, so why did I have to ask Charles? I looked over at where he and Charlie were as John walked off. After a moment of contemplation, I headed back over. I didn’t feel good all of a sudden. It didn’t feel right to me that I had gotten out alive but Karen hadn’t. It seemed like everyone just forgot about her for such a long time.

“Are you okay, Mama?” Charlie asked.  
“Why don’t you go up to the tree on the hill and read there for a while?” I said.  
“Okay.”  
Charles waited until he was gone to turn to me. “What’s wrong?”  
“What happened to Mister Strauss? I liked him less than I liked Pearson, but...he was an old man...”  
“It was a long time ago, Evie.”  
“Many things were a long time ago. Did he get away? Go back to Austria? What happened?”  
“The Pinkertons eventually found him and took him into custody.”

A chill ran up my spine. I didn’t like the thought of that at all. They were fine with kidnapping Abigail for something she didn’t do and tying her up, there was no doubt what else they were fine with. I didn’t want to know what kind of measures they went to get people to talk. It clearly hadn’t taken much for Micah to be turned into a rat. Arthur kicked Strauss out of camp, but where did he end up going in the end? For a long time, I at least hoped he was somewhere running a successful business of some sort. But if Agent Ross and the other agents found him, then...

“He never said a word about no one,” Charles said. “Strauss died in custody.”  
“Okay...” I mumbled.  
“Are you feelin’ alright?”  
“Not particularly.”  
“Do you need to be alone?”  
“No.”

I’d read that the Pinkerton Detective Agency had disbanded, but some of the agents had gone ahead and worked with the government still. I knew Dutch and Micah were still wanted, but what about Charles and John? Uncle was free to do what he liked since he mostly kept his head down in the gang. His apparent lumbago was good for something, at least. John had so many newspapers from over the years -- maybe he had one that reported on whether or not he was still wanted.

“I gotta do some work,” Charles mentioned. “Will you be okay for a while?”  
“Yes,” I replied. “Please, don’t let me keep you from work. Thank you for telling me about Mister Strauss and for showing me how to do Charlie’s hair.”

Charles went ahead and got to work. I stayed where I was for a few moments, just thinking. It didn’t take me long to come to the decision to look through those newspapers. I headed into the house and found them in a pile near the kitchen. I picked them up and sat them on the kitchen table. There were a lot of them to sift through, but I was going to get it done whether it was boring or not. And it was boring. Very boring. There were newspapers dating all the way back to when the gang was still together. These ones must have belonged to Arthur and mentioned the Blackwater raid, the train robbery up in the mountains, the shootout in Valentine and Rhodes, and the trolley station and the bank in Saint Denis. There were a few newspapers from after everyone either died or got out of the gang, too. John must have collected them before he, Abigail, and Jack went to the Yukon. The raid on Beaver Hollow was mentioned. Newer papers mentioned that Arthur was considered dead and Hosea, for a fact, was also dead. There was no mention of Sadie or myself anywhere, luckily. Well, it would have been hard for Sadie to do work for the government if she was wanted by the government. As far as I knew, she never actually did anything remotely bad outside of killing O’Driscolls. I had no idea why they didn’t mention me at all; not that I was complaining. I did just want to be left alone with my family.

Eventually, I found the newspaper article that mentioned Dutch and Micah were wanted, along with John and Charles. John must have known; he could read just fine. Charles was smart enough to know he was still wanted and that was probably why no one had heard from him in so long. If I’d heard someone like Charles had been spotted and word got back to me, then I definitely would have taken Charlie and gone to find him. At least then I would have known where to start. I was coming to feel better knowing he had kept his head down and been quiet for as long as he had. But reading the article, knowing he really was wanted, made me feel panic. Why was he in Blackwater? Why were we in Blackwater? We should have been long gone. I had no doubt that if someone from the Agency saw me they would try and get answers from me like they had Strauss.

“Charles!” I shouted, coming out of the house.  
Abigail had jumped. “He’s feedin’ the horses. What’s the matter?”

I waved her off and walked as quickly as I could over to the corral. If it weren’t for Charlie, I would have ran. Charles was just finishing up with Maple when I rushed through the gate. He looked confused; I couldn’t blame him. I would have been confused, too, if I saw some scared looking woman on the verge of tears bounding toward me.

“Why are we still here?” I sniffled.  
“Evie, what’s--” he began.  
“You’re a wanted man, Charles, and we’re near where everything started to go wrong. So why are we still here? Why are _you_ still here?”  
He grabbed my shoulders. “Just breathe, Evie. Breathe and relax.”  
“I-I-I can’t lose you again. I can’t.”  
“That ain’t gonna happen. You have to trust me.”

Charles wasn’t worried. Of course he wouldn’t be. Why would he have been? Being stealthy was one of his skills. If he knew he was going to get caught, he’d be able to get out of wherever he was quickly and quietly. But still, I couldn’t help but feel horribly panicked and worried.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere without you, okay?” Charles assured me. “We’ll go to Canada and start a family; even find Sean so you and Charlie can be in Siobhán’s life again. What needs to be done here needs to be finished first.”  
“The ranch is... I... John already...”

I couldn’t get my words out. I wasn’t understanding why we had to wait any longer. What were we waiting for? What was _Charles_ waiting for? Was I really getting scared for no good reason or what?

“It’s that rat, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice shaking.  
“Yes,” Charles replied. “And John’s gotta get this place up and runnin’ to start making money.”  
“So...then...”  
“Whichever comes first, we’ll go to Canada after. Okay? You have to trust me.”  
“I do trust you. I’m just... I’m scared. I was scared and alone when I married Sean, too, and I don’t want it to come to that again.”  
“We’re gonna be okay. You just need to take a breath and calm down.”  
“Is... Is John waiting for Micah, too?”  
“Him and Sadie.”

Did Abigail know that John wanted to probably kill Micah? If there was anything I knew about her, it was that she wasn’t going to let John go quietly. They were finally on the way to the life she always wanted. While I was in thought, Charles pulled me into a tight hug. I wanted Micah dead, too; way before he killed Arthur, way before he took advantage of me in my tent... But if Charles went, what if something did happen to him? What then? What if something happened to all of them? Abigail and I would be alone and our children wouldn’t have their father’s anymore, and Siobhán and Charlie wouldn’t have their aunt, either.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” I mumbled into Charles’ chest. “Sorry.”  
“It’s okay to be worried,” he said reassuringly. “This will all be over soon.”

He went back to feeding the horses while I grabbed onto Maple’s reins. I still had to go into Strawberry to see about letters from Mary Beth. Well, those could wait for one more day. I left Maple in the corral and headed back over to the house. I sat on the steps of the patio, putting my head into my hands.

“Everythin’ alright?” Abigail asked.  
“There’s just a lot on my mind, that’s all,” I replied.  
“You should try and get some rest.”  
“If Micah really is still alive, then that means I know what happened to everybody.”  
“You know what happened to Mister Escuela?”

I couldn’t mention that I’d come face to face with him. Well, I could, but I didn’t know what that would entail. It was a good thing I read through those newspapers, though, because the last one I read confirmed that Javier was back in Mexico.

“Sure,” I said, looking at her. “He went home. The newspaper I read said so.”  
“How’s your shoulder?” Abigail inquired, suddenly changing the subject.  
“It’s still giving me some trouble, but...it’s okay.”


End file.
